In This Moment
by 89JadedPictures
Summary: A series of one-shots that give you a glimpse into the lives of Hogwarts' inhabitants five days before the final battle; what they see, what they experience, and what they learn about each other during a 24 hr time period. (Warnings: language, smut, some dark themes.) Pairings: TN/SB/BZ - DM/GW/PP - NL/DG (Just to name a few.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I am back for Valentine's Day! Yay consumerism! I'd tell you all about it, but really? THIS IS A SMUT WARNING (M/F/M)! Turn back if you can't handle it!

Enjoy! :)

 **Synopses:** Blaise and Theodore help Susan find her backbone.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or the band In This Moment, nor am I affiliated with either in any way.

 **Chapter 1. Bones**

The mid-spring air was warm the night that Susan Bones worked in the greenhouses, checking the soil as she hummed to herself idly. She was alone, and she was oh so grateful for it. With the hubbub of the Carrows and Slytherins basically running the beloved school, Susan had been more than happy to accept the task from Sprout of readying the Mandrakes for the firsties' Advanced Herbology the next morning. If it meant being out of the common room, away from the dread and fear that exuded from her housemates, Susan would do anything! The R of R was even worse!

She'd felt completely stifled by it all, how everyone had to sit back and take the abuse as He Who Must Not Be Named closed in on them. Everyone who spoke out against the Carrows, or the Slytherins, were severely punished, and this did not help what Susan felt was her biggest shortcoming. She felt that her worst quality was her inability to speak up for herself. She liked to think that she could do so for others; be brave… Of course that had been _before_ the war had begun to rage. Even still, she was shite at protecting herself _especially_.

But the war was coming to a head, she knew it, and she held on to the dream that the terror would end soon. Susan had been feeling that feeling one got when they knew something bad was about to happen. Luna's return, after being held captive and spending time with "mutual friends", had been enough to give the Light side hope. She'd told Neville, Ginny, and Susan- and no one else, mind you- that she'd seen Harry, Ron and Hermione during Easter Holiday only weeks ago, and she knew the Trio would be back by the end of the school year. Sue had taken this to heart, and with the school year's end not even two months away she couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety and stress. No one could. It was killing them all, even those who controlled the school, and "rested easy". Voldemort was slowly killing them, _everyone_ , even if he wasn't there in the castle.

Susan felt like _she_ was close to death, because the words that died in her throat every time she wanted to say something were making her feel like she was dying with them. But what could she do? She was one Hufflepuff, and not even a brave one like Cedric, or a cocky loud-mouth like Justin. She was just Susan Bones; meek, quiet, somewhere far behind the curtain. The night prior when Neville and Ginny had been publicly punished for yet another attempt to break into Snape's quarters, and the Gryffindor witch had irritated Alecto so thoroughly that the Professor had Crucio'd the red-head, only to do it multiple times as the young witch refused to cry out in pain; crying through the curse, and tearing her lip with her teeth.

Susan had done nothing, and this war had taken all it could from her… even her self-proclaimed trait of "selfless bravery".

The witch continued her work for almost an hour- with the shadow of her old friend "happiness"- previous to being interrupted. She was so caught up in her work that she hadn't heard them enter, not until one of the intruders startled her by saying from a meter behind her,

"Evening, Bones."

Susan turned from her work to see two Slyths had sauntered in; the devilishly handsome Blaise Zabini and incredibly sexy Theodore Nott. Or, they _would_ be those things if they weren't horrible tools. Fear took her instantly, because however shaggable every witch agreed the two were, they were always brutally rude, and, more often than not, treated everyone like Hippogriff dung. She was afraid to be alone with them because they could tell Malfoy to take away points, or even curse her, and Susan wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. They said horrible things to her housemates, and, to go the farthest route possible, they could kill her and claim she'd tried to curse them, or escape.

Come what may, Susan's moment of peaceful bliss was officially over; completely ruined.

"Wh- what are you doing here?" she asked them. It was a little late for students to be out, aside from Prefects, those in detention, and those with special permission, like Susan. But Theo and Blaise were not Prefects, and they weren't high enough on the food chain to be wandering around at eleven o'clock on a Tuesday.

Theo scoffed as he rested his hands in his pockets, then leaned against the doorjamb, looking to Blaise with a smirk. Blaise was the one to actually answer her, saying, "The Carrows gave Malfoy and Parkinson the job of watching over the Weaselette's detention tonight, so Theo and I have to make rounds… _You're_ not a Prefect. What are _you_ doing here?"

Susan licked her lips nervously. Blaise had taken two steps towards her while he spoke, and with his height the fact that he was a meter away still made her feel that he was towering over her. "Ye- yes," she managed. "Sp- Sprout told the Carrows that I was going to get the Mandrakes ready for the first years tomorrow."

"Did she now?" Theo asked, and Susan's green eyes darted to the slightly shorter, pale Slytherin as he spoke.

"She did," Susan answered, mustering all her nerve. The two looked like prowling panthers- dressed in all black with mischievous smirks that played brightly on green and blue eyes- and fear made a bigger home in the pit of her stomach.

"Well…" Blaise paused, evaluated her from her toes to her head, said, "You're not much a threat. I could see them allowing that."

Susan was affronted at his words, because she felt she was as capable as any other witch. She may have hailed from a "muddled background" as many begrudgingly reminded her almost daily, but Susan only believed that that made her stronger. She had been exposed to both worlds at birth, and she knew how to move within both by the time she was five… though with a few mishaps… And even with those misfortunate events, Susan was an advocate for peace, so she didn't comment on Blaise's obvious derision. She didn't want any trouble with _any_ Slytherin.

The war was beginning to enlighten Susan in different ways, and courage was more frequent a visitor; Gryffindor becoming more and more her sub-House every moment she lived in the castle. But, with that came her Slytherin and her Ravenclaw, and all compasses pointed to "Now is not the time for a fight; not here, not now, not with _them_."

"We should keep an eye on her just in case," Theo suggested to his comrade. Susan started at this. She still had at least an hour's work to do, and she knew that they'd harass her endlessly if they stayed; leading to her failing at the special job she'd been given. Sprout was Susan's role-model, and she didn't want to disappoint her in any way.

"You don't have to do that," she said with a little fear in her voice. "I don't- I don't want you two- harassing me." Her words had been hard enough for her to say, so they lacked all conviction. She almost trembled, because they looked like they were about to do something she would undoubtedly dislike.

Theo chuckled at her, and Blaise shook his head with a smirk, retorting, "You don't even know, Bones…" She actually trembled at the tone in his deep voice. "You may be used to being picked on, but you don't know how we could harass a little innocent, Hufflepuff."

She laughed. It was short, a half-giggle half-bark, and the Slytherin's easy, assured expressions changed into ones of surprise and confusion. She muttered gravitas, "You don't know me…"

She turned from them then. Susan Bones was _not_ innocent, Justin had seen to that, regrettably… and she may have been little in stature, but her courage was big when she was faced with injustice. Hogwarts was experiencing mass injustice, and the two Slytherins that stood before her were perpetuating that system. Hufflepuffs got picked on quite often by Slytherins, but if you pushed them hard enough they'd turn into badgers, and feast on your fuckin' face. She'd never gotten so upset that she'd ever done so, but there was a first for everything. If they laid a hand on her, she'd do what she needed to to protect herself.

"We _don't_ know you. You're right," Theo admitted.

"But is that an invitation?" Blaise asked, amused. "Do you _want_ us to get to know you?"

The flush that hit Susan's entire body made it to where she couldn't turn to face them initially. She wanted to, but the tinge on her skin so very obvious. She stared down at the Mandrake pot she'd been testing, her heart picking up its already quick pace as her mind raced with the possibilities. She'd never say yes to such a thing, but that didn't mean she didn't- for just a second- let herself imagine what it would be like to be held between the two gods that stood behind her. But she knew it was all a taunt, so she did not agree to it…

But she didn't say anything either, and this caused Theo to say loudly in surprise, "Merlin..! She's _considering_ it!"

She did turn at this, a defiant glare on her features, and stated loudly, "I am not! I'm hoping that if I ignore you, you'll leave me alone."

"No way," Theo said as he moved into the room to stand next his counterpart, "You were just considering whether or not you should let us "get to know you" better." Blaise smirked down at her, and Theo raised his brows, as if to say, "We're waiting on you to confirm this, liar."

"I would _never_ consider letting either of you to _get to know me_. The fact that you know my name is enough," Susan answered.

"Aw. Are you shy, Susie?" Blaise asked.

"Of course she is. "Innocent little, Hufflepuff", remember?" Theo said to his friend. They tittered.

She hated that fact that all of this was getting under her skin. The verge of a badger break-down must have been close, because she could feel herself boil at the thought that the two were doing this to her. They'd never said a word to her, and now, because they had power, and could do whatever they wanted without consequence, they were suddenly going to feign interest for their own amusement. Susan did not like that. That cusp- the one you plummet over as you snap- was so very close.

"The idea," Susan began, "of you two creeps being even slightly interested in me makes my skin crawl, because I know you're only doing this to embarrass me. And, for your information, I'm not innocent, and if I fancied a shag I'd go find someone I actually liked." She raised the wand at her side, showing them that she was at the ready- had the advantage of many seconds with her "weapon" already drawn- and turned back to her work. She kept her ears piqued, however; listening for the rustle of wands being pulled from pockets, or of them advancing closer.

She raised her hand to cast the spell to check the Mandrake's soil, the incantation on her lips, but it died as Blaise tore her wand from her hand from behind. She turned again only to face Blaise's chest, and went to snatch her wand from him until she realized that he held it high- _bloody_ high- above his head. Jumping for it would only cause her to make a spectacle of herself, and the bastard smirked as he watched her realize this.

"Not innocent, huh?" the dark-skinned wizard asked, his green eyes only readable as impish delight. He was getting off on how rattled she became at his simple question; how she once again flushed all the way up her chest, neck, to the freckled crown of her hair, and how she stared up at him whilst biting her bottom lip so hard she brought herself from her daze with a painful start.

Theo reached out and grabbed her right wrist, using it to pull her sideways and into his chest with a tug, which made her squeak in fearful surprise. The sound of wood hitting the stone floor pulled her attention away from Theo- and the erratic beating of blood through her body that settled in her core- to watch as her wand rolled away under the raised beds and out of sight. After discarding her wand, Blaise moved to stand with his chest to her back, and it made her freeze in terror at the feeling of being trapped in a bad, bad, bad situation.

"S- st- stop," she tried her voice, and this time it was not as brave as the last time. In fact, it sounded feeble. It came out like a shaking whisper. She was shite at defending herself…

"Would you fancy an _amazing_ shag right now?" Blaise went on as he grabbed her by one hip, and used his free hand to push her red hair to the side as he leaned down to set his lips on the skin of her neck, just above the collar of her shirt. She gasped loudly, and would have moved away if it hadn't been for Theo grabbing her other hip tightly as he set his lips to hers.

She didn't kiss him back. She was shaking like a leaf on a tree; shivering from pure exhilaration and fear at the two sets of lips. It coaxed a moan from her throat involuntarily, and they did so again when they pushed them all closer together at the noise, the witch able to feel both of their semi-excitement on her body at once. She was still shaking as Theo let her mouth go to bow to kiss the skin on the opposite side of Blaise, who muttered just below her ear as she tipped her head back, "It sounds like you're enjoying this… Moan for us again."

She didn't at first- still fighting it all mentally, even if she failed in any and all physical attempts. Her mind was racing at a million kilometers a second, but she couldn't help her third moan when Theo lost his hand in her hair to assist in holding her face skyward to kiss her again, and Blaise pulled her shirt roughly over her shoulder to nip at the flesh he found. With every passing second, every rough touch, every greedy action, Susan fell faster and faster.

She felt like they were breathing life into her; her nerves had never stood on end in a sexual situation, and she was finding the experience to be more exhilarating than anything else she'd ever experienced. She didn't know she craved adrenaline- she didn't know she _craved!_ \- until Theo put his hand up her shirt to grip her middle, and Blaise put his hand up the back of her skirt to play along the edge of her knickers.

Theo pulled his lips away from hers to look down into her eyes and said, "Now there's a good girl, Bones. You like this… Admit it."

She stared into his lust-filled blue eyes, and even though the words danced at the end of her tongue, she couldn't say them. This situation was like every other to Susan; every instance she could have stood up for someone the Carrows or Slytherins unrightfully mistreated and she didn't, and every time she could have raised her voice to say exactly what she felt and she decided it wasn't worth it. She did again, right then, when he'd told her to admit it and she couldn't find the words.

Blaise pulled away first, Theo second, and together the Slytherins moved to the door and out of sight. She was left alone to put her hand up to hold herself upright on one of the raised beds, the witch had to will her treacherous trembling legs to cut their folly. With wide eyes of surprise she stared at the door. Humiliation hit her first, because she'd behaved like some harlot, and they really had only been there to harass her. If they'd really wanted to shag her, they'd have just done it… But she hadn't wanted that, and they had respected her silence… But now she regretted her silence; now she wanted them to come back and ease the ache in her core that felt almost painful as her mind played through the tape of what could have just transpired.

In the silence that was Susan's inner-monologue, she stared at the stone floor as she brought her hand up to touch her neck, then her lips. A shudder tore through her, and she swore, "Helga's hell…" as she let the feeling of the Slytherin's ravishing linger as long as possible.

(*)

What would have taken Susan's mind an hour to achieve took two, even after she'd summoned her wand. She was so consumed by the encounter with the Slytherins that it had taken all of her willpower to accomplish her task. When it was all said and done she left the greenhouse intent on bed, locked the door behind her, cleaned her nails with a well-practiced spell, then pocketed her wand.

Making her way back to her dorms turned out to be a chore all on its own. She'd gone to the second floor before she remembered her dorms, the ones she'd lived in the past six years, were in the dungeons by the kitchens. Her mind had been flooded with images of her, Blaise, and Theo. Her body buzzed with that same craving she'd had earlier. She rubbed her legs together in annoyance. She blushed endlessly as she moved through the castle as slow as Binns on a bad day, and, in her mind, was riding Blaise to completion, until she realized she was standing in front of the Charms room.

With a heavy sigh of frustration and self-annoyance, Susan had turned around and made her way the slide hidden in the barrels in the pantries, which would take her to Hufflepuff. The last turn around the corner to the main pantry seemed just as it should be; quiet, dark, and empty, so she moved to the barrels as usual. She'd gotten close enough that she'd reached out for the edge of the wooden rim, only to be grabbed from behind- an arm around her waist, a hand over her mouth- and then pulled into one of the smaller pantries that smelled like dried food and old onions; the witch trying to pull away from her far stronger captor with no avail.

The door locked as she was released and she made for a wall, stumbling in the dark, to get away from whoever had taken her… She had an idea.

With a "Lumos", Blaise lit the one candle that illuminated the empty room, and she once again faced the two men who'd held her between them earlier.

"You two?" she asked in annoyance, crossing her arms.

It was known that Hufflepuffs enjoyed playing games, but the one the Slytherins were playing with her was not on Susan's list of things to try. She knew she was a little too happy to see them- in her heart of Hufflepuff hearts she knew she wanted them- but she was cautious above all things when facing snakes; especially those that bit you, and then left you, weak in the knees, to die in a Mandrake pot by your lonesome. If it was their plan to leave her high and "wet" again, in a stinky old closet, then she was going to go to bed to handle her problems on her own.

"Why don't you just leave me alone? Why are you doing this?" She was closer to that edge. She did not care how she sounded, or if she was being as rude as they were. Two can play that "game".

Three..?

"Be honest," Theo began with a sly smirk, "You want us."

"Honestly? You first," she said as she boldly took a step away from her wall, "Are you here to harass me some more?"

"Why?" Blaise asked. "Afraid we'll leave again?"

And then… she was back to being meek. She could tell that he knew that what he said was the truth. She could hear it in the way his voice had lowered; see it in his body as he took a short step closer to her. Silence followed Blaise's question, and it was answer enough for the Slytherins, but it seemed to her they weren't actually going to make a move until she said something.

"Yup," Theo said as he took a few steps towards her, "She's afraid we'll leave without finishing this time." He stated all of this casually, then Blaise took another step towards her, one that made her step back into her wall, and said to her,

"My mate Theo, here, said that it had looked to him like you'd been disappointed when we left you in the greenhouse, and I had to admit that I saw it too... that you didn't want us to leave after getting you so ready…" Susan felt her blood quicken once more, and that _need_ began to grow deep in her belly. "We really were only fucking with you, but now we're here to finish what we started… as long as you consent, of course."

Theo cut in, "You have to say, "Theo. Blaise. I want you to fuck me."."

She gulped at this, and rubbed her legs together as little as possible. She didn't want them to see her reaction to them. When they talked like that, it took her breath, and therefore silence fell yet again. She wanted to say the words, yell them, but she couldn't muster the courage.

Noticing her struggle, they both stepped forward, Blaise pulling her from the wall, and had her between them in seconds; this time Theo was behind her with his hands up her skirt, and Blaise was kissing her with his hands lost in her hair. Theo palmed the globes of her arse, and leaned forward to use his nose to push her hair out of his way so that he could nibble on her earlobe, pulling the flesh lightly with his teeth. It made her shiver. Theo then hooked his fingers into the hem of her knickers, and slowly pulled them down to where they stopped just below her arse so that he could touch her without their obstruction.

She began making noises, shameless moans, into Blaise's full lips, the feeling of being held so tightly by two gorgeous men taking over her body at a frighteningly fast pace. When the man in front of her broke their kiss, he removed a hand from her locks and brought it back up under her shirt to squeeze one of her breasts through her thin bra, stroking the pad of his thumb over her nipple.

"Mmmmm!" she moaned in surprise, staring up into his eyes as she pushed herself into his hand, while Theo pushed her ever so slightly forward to get better access to her already wet pussy. "Oh, yes, gods!" she cried out as the man behind her traced the short slit of her folds with his fingers, slowly, over and over, pushing onto her still swollen clit every time he passed over it.

"Say it, Susan. Say the words," Blaise coaxed as he stared down at her, but she couldn't She'd never said anything so filthy before, and she wasn't even sure she could! Would it sound right coming out? Would she fumble? Mumble? Squeak?

"I- I-," she stammered, "I can't! I can't say it!"

As fast as the snakes they were, the two stepped away from her again, leaving the trembling girl to fall to her knees as her legs failed to keep her upright. Resting her hands palm down in front of her on the stones, she looked at their backs with lidded eyes, a pant on her breath. Theo righted the front of his trousers, and Blaise unlocked the door.

When he opened it, Susan stopped their exit by saying, "Wait!" They did, turning from the door with lust filled eyes to look down at her. "Th- Th- Theo…" she paused. She couldn't do it! "B-Blaise… Please, I- I want you to fuck me." She'd almost spit the last part out too fast, but it had been loud, and pronounced, enough for them to smirk in satisfaction.

Blaise closed the door with his foot, and locked it, and followed Theo as they moved back to the shaking girl on the floor. Theo knelt to her left and brought his hands up to begin tearing her shirt off, while Blaise knelt to her right and removed his own shirts, then used one hand to grab the back of her neck so as to pull her up onto her knees to crash his lips back onto hers. It made her numb with want. She wanted- _wanted!_ \- them so badly. She never knew she could get so high, and definitely _never_ thought she'd get so high because she was going to get freaky in a pantry with two people she should hate. But the way they looked at her, pawed at her, as Theo tore her shirt down her arms and off, and Blaise made quick work of her bra while Theo removed his own shirt, she didn't really care about all of that.

She was having an experience she'd dreamed of having, and it was better than any dream.

"How do you want us to fuck you, Sue? Which one of us do you want first?" Blaise asked as he played with her tits, and Theo unzipped the side zipper of her skirt to pull it and her knickers to her knees.

"Or do you want both of us at once?" Theo chimed with a cocky smirk, and then gave her arse a solid smack that made her squeak and jump. Susan couldn't think of an answer. She would not be able to take them both at once. She wasn't a virgin, but she'd only been with one person on two separate occasions, so she didn't even know what she should be comfortable with.

"Which is it, Susan?" Blaise pushed. "You don't want us to decide… unless you like it in your arse."

She hadn't even thought of that as an option! The thought made her both scared and excited. She had no idea what it would feel like, so how could she deny- or accept- it? She heard Justin say it hurt the first few times, hence the fear, and why she'd never experimented.

"She's considering it!" Theo said to Blaise, the both of them looked at each other with a raised brow. "I call her arse," Theo said after only a second or two. "You'll rip her." The light-skinned wizard grabbed her by her hip to turn her arse towards him, and Susan almost ran away when their words registered in the haziness of her mind, and at the open way they communicated.

She absently wondered if they'd done something that this before, to another witch in broom closet or a classroom, or what have you. Was she not the first girl to have this experience? Did it matter?

She didn't think on it for long, though, because her thoughts were pulled away when Blaise grabbed her by the side of her neck, and pulled her down to her hands; palms down. All she could think about was the worry in her stomach that tried to battle with her lust. She wanted to know what it would be like to be had by them. She really wanted to. She wanted to be able to speak the words they wanted to hear without stumbling over them in embarrassment… but she couldn't do either of those things.

She became immediately grateful that she hadn't run away when Theo spread her arse apart and began eating both her pussy and back entrance. Her elbows tried to buckle, and she would have gone down if not for the grip Blaise had in her hair as she pulled his thick cock from his slacks, and pushed the head to her lips. Her eyes had closed with ecstasy the second Theo's tongue had dipped into her arsehole, but they'd flown wide open when Blaise's cock forcefully entered her mouth. She'd only done so once before, and Justin had said it had felt good, but what would these sexually uninhibited Slytherins think of her… technique?

Looking up at Blaise as he forced her jaw to open wider for him must have been a turn on for the Slytherin because she tasted his pre-cum on the back of her tongue only seconds afterward. He held her head tighter as he retreated, then pushed back into her, all the way to the back of her throat, this all made easier by the fact that her mouth would have been hanging wide open anyway, because Theo's mouth had already caused her to push her hips back into his tongue hungrily so that she could get more of it. She hummed loudly around Blaise as he continued to pump in and out of her, something she'd tried before, and was rewarded by the tip of the thick member to hit her gag reflex.

She pulled away to gag and catch her breath, Blaise using this opportunity to say, "Tell us what you want from us. You hardly ever talk… Say it. Tell us what you need."

She looked from the floor and back up at him with watering eyes, saying with more confidence than she'd had ten minutes ago, "I want you both- at once."

Theo pulled away from her with an audible sucking sound, saying with a pleased smirk, "That's what we want you. Say it again."

A little louder than last time, and without a pause, she said, "I want both of you inside of me."

Blaise pulled her face up so that she could look at him, "There's one word you said the first time, you missed the second time. It sounded like a plea… I liked it a little too much, so you should probably say it again."

Theo brought his hands down on her arse before sticking two fingers, to the second knuckle, into her now dripping arse, and his thumb into her pussy. At the smack she'd squeaked again in surprise, only to moan a loud, "Yesssss…" at Theo's insertions, throwing her head back as he continued to push in as far as he could go.

"Not that, darling," Blaise chastised with a 'tsk-tsk', putting his thumb and forefinger under her chin to keep it in place as he gripped his cock to slap her cheek and lips.

"Please!" She repeated her earlier word, it sounding more like a prayer than the first time she'd muttered it. Susan was losing all composure at this point. Theo's "bowling" grip on her orifices, pumping all three digits at once, coupled with his free hand spreading her for his viewing pleasure, was already bringing her the edge. Imagining his fingers being replaced by hard cocks..? It made her every muscle quiver with anticipation.

"Which holes, Susie?" Theo asked. "These two?" At his question, he picked up the pace of his hand's pumping. "Your arse and pussy?"

"Your arse and mouth?" Blaise suggested.

"Your mouth and pussy?" Theo threw in.

"All of them!" she cried out loudly, her voice sounding foreign with the amount of ecstasy that filled it. "I want you in all of them! Please!"

Blaise's continued grip on her chin didn't allow her to see the look of triumph the two men shared at her yelled confession, but she wouldn't have cared. She was already so close to the edge, she probably wouldn't have noticed if she'd been staring right at them, instead of closing her eyes as she pushed back against Theo's hand. Blaise pushed his thumb and forefinger into her cheeks, between her teeth, to force her mouth open, and reinserted himself before he began to fuck her throat roughly.

Theo removed his fingers, which Susan would have complained about if she didn't know that they were going to be replaced by something she wanted more. The sound of the man behind her removing his belt shot another shock of electricity to her core, the witch more than ready to be filled at this point. She was so turned on that she reached up to slap Blaise's hands from her hair, before using said hand to grab his hip to help her suck him at her own quick speed. When Theo's thumb, still slick from her pussy, slipped into her arse, she pulled away to hiss at the pleasure, which turned into a, "Fuck yes!" as Theo buried himself into cunt after three, shallow, wetting thrusts.

"Does he feel good?" Blaise asked her, putting his cock back into her mouth.

"Mmm-hmm," she hummed as her head bobbed up and down, and she swallowed beads of pre-cum with greed.

"Does my cock taste good, Susie?" Blaise asked.

She pulled away from long enough to say, "Delicious!", before putting her mouth back on the tip to tongue the urethra. Theo filling her to the brim was just as delicious, and this was when Susan Bones truly found her voice…

"Fuck yes, Theo!" She said, pulling away from Blaise once more to look back at the man who was slowly dragging his cock from her entrance, commanding, "Put your cock back in! It feels so bloody good!"

"Do you need me to be gentle with you, pet?" Theo asked, pushing her bangs away from the light sweat on her forehead.

"No," she gasped, pushing back onto him, making him gasp in pleasure as he gripped her hips roughly. "Fuck me hard, you Slytherin bastards!"

Both of the men took her command at once by holding onto whatever parts of her suited their fancy, and used her as they pleased; Blaise holding her hair, or chin, or blocking off her air supply by pinching her nose as he pumped; Theo digging his fingers into her hips, shoulders, lost two into her rear, set a hand on her lower back as he went slow for a minute.

Susan had officially lost all conscious thought; none entering mind beside the carnal want/need to push back against Theo harder, or press harder on the base of Blaise's cock with her tongue. It all felt like the world melted away into consuming, bone shaking ecstasy. Hell, the room's smell had even disappeared, and had been replaced by sweat, sex, and men. Her moans and cries were loud- bordering on screams when Theo would go "too deep"- only for her to truly scream her orgasm when Theo adjusted his hips to buck up into her, pushing her hot spot over and over. Blaise used her wide open, screaming mouth to pump until the noise changed into a soggy, wet, choking gag.

The witch hadn't even completely come down by the time Blaise used her shoulders to pull her up to her knees, and then moved his hands under her arms to pull her up to assist in her wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He used his large hands to spread her arse cheeks apart for Theo, who moved forward on his knees to set the head of his cock at her arsehole before he pushed the tip in with some resistance on her tight arse's part. She kept her face in Blaise's neck as Theo pushed into her slowly, only stopping when he could go no further.

"Sweet gods," Susan whispered, mentally remarking on how different it felt from his fingers- more painful- but was glad he'd taken the time to use his digits to loosen her beforehand. When she relaxed on him fully, Blaise grabbed her arms to push her back into Theo's chest, the pale wizard putting his hands under her thighs, holding her up with the assistance of one of Blaise's hands on her waist, and the men's thighs met flush as Blaise entered Susan's quivering twat.

"Oh, bloody Salazar, Sue..! Your pussy is fucking tight!" Blaise said as he let that telling shiver rip down his spine from the feeling of her milking him, tight and perfect, he knew he would come shortly.

"I think her arse is cutting off my circulation," Theo groaned, sounding slightly pained, but that didn't keep him from pulling out as far as possible before pushing back in to the hilt.

"How do you feel, love?" Blaise asked the witch, whose face was pained, whose lips were clamped shut. She could only concentrate on breathing as she stretched to fit them both. "You know we want to hear this. Tell us… Please?"

Sue opened her eyes at the plea, and licked her lips before she answered, "I feel stretching… I feel full…" Both men could not help but begin moving- albeit slowly- at her words, and she kept going much to their enjoyment, "It hurts a little," Theo pulled out; Blaise pushed in, "but it feels so fucking fantastic!" Theo pushed in; Blaise pulled out, "It feels like I'm going to be split in two," Theo pulled out; Blaise pushed in, "but I'm going to love _every_ second of it!"

Leaning slightly more forward, the two Slyths held her between them more tightly with their chests, leaving their hips more freedom to move as they began to catch a natural, perfect rhythm; the two entering and exiting her simultaneously. Their moans were deep, carnal, and Susan's body began to tremble- then began to quake- and both men quickened their pace when her cries changed into desperate demands:

"Harder Blaise… Nnng- fuck!" She only paused long enough to kiss Blaise, pull away, and ask, "Do you like shagging innocent Hufflepuff girls in pantries with your best mate?"

"I do now," Blaise answered, gripping her ribs harder to go faster, the tip of his cock beginning to tingle at such language coming from a girl he'd never heard string four words together. "And I'm going to so _a lot_ more often."

"Hell, yes," Theo agreed, his voice strained, telling his partners he was close without having to say so. "Your arse is so bloody _tight_ , Susie."

"Your cocks are going to make me come already!" She said, the dirty talk taking her ever higher as she dug her nails into Blaise's shoulders, her knees squeezing the dark-skinned man's ribs, who moved a hand low to play with her clit, willing her to come with him as he said,

"Your cunt is making me come!"

"Bloody- fucking- Merlin!" Theo strained at the same time Blaise spoke. The swelling of Blaise's cock as he came applied the perfect pressure to Theo's through the thin wall that separated them, and it pulled him over the edge seconds after his friend. The feelings, the sounds, the heat of it all, tore a cry so loud from Susan's throat that the silencing charm did nothing about it; the caster of the spell so weak in his release that the barrier dropped.

Susan drew blood from Blaise's shoulders, Blaise left bruises on her pale ribs, Theo left his own marks from the grip he had on her sensitive, shaking thighs as both men's hips thrusted in and out sporadically in their climax. The feeling kept the witch on her high for as long as they did so, and her moans and swears continued until she fell off of the wave she'd caught. She wanted to ride it- them- for forever, until she died happy and so fulfilled she didn't care about her fate. At that moment, she didn't care about war, or blood, or hate; she didn't care if the two used this meeting against her because she'd never felt so drained of stress and worry in her life. Nothing else mattered as she felt herself relax into Blaise's lightly bloodied shoulder, and the Slytherins leaned forward as they rested together, catching their breath.

When Blaise pulled out, Susan felt her muscles twitch- almost all of the ones her body possessed- but she gave a raspy groan when Theo pulled out, and they helped her to her knees. Her stability was non-existent, and she found herself reaching for Theo's shirt to lie face down on, using the garment as a shield for her hot skin on the cold floor. Theo rested on his back to one side of her, and Blaise copied her by going down onto the floor, on his stomach, onto his own shirt, exclaiming,

"Holy _shite_ , Bones! Holy- _bloody_ \- shite!"

Susan grinned into the divine smelling shirt she snuggled into.

"No shite," Theo said; his breathing still heavy. "I filled your arse just now." He reached over and gave her arse a light smack before squeezing it firmly.

"That's not the only thing filled. Accio wand." Blaise sat up, reaching out to catch his wand before casting a contraceptive charm on Susan. A new warmth played with the heat that already coated her uterus, telling her she needn't worry about repercussions. Well, not that one.

"Can I go to bed now, or are there other locations the two of you want to corner me in?" Susan asked playfully, feeling far more comfortable around the two now.

"Meet us in the greenhouses tomorrow. Same time," Theo said.

"I'll be there," Susan said with no hesitation, or self-doubt, what-so-ever.

 **Bones**

You are my drug  
My miracle  
You are my cure  
In this infected world  
And I can't do this without you  
I'm dying here without you

I wanna lie with your bones forever

 **(*)**

 **A/N:** There will be more chaps set during this time frame. A 24-48 hour time frame. It wasn't going to be like that at first, but then I couldn't help it once I started having plot bunnies, and then _those_ bunnies had bunnies... ETC.

 **A/N:** I love my BETA, **I WAS BOTWP**. She condones this, and that is _just_ what I needed! :)

Please review! I'll be back…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: As I've mentioned before, I do not own HP or ITM.

 **Chapter 2. Iron Army**

"Oi! Pricks!" Pansy Parkinson started as the bricks of the doorway began to fold back and open to allow the Slytherin Prefects to enter the Slytherin commons at just a quarter after three. All seventh-year Slytherins happened to be assembled in the common room; during the final term of their final year, classes took place in the mornings, while afternoons were left free for studying. Not that many of them felt the need to study. How important would NEWTs be to the sons and daughters of the elites in this new world order?

Presently, Tracey Davis, Millicent Bullstrode, Daphne Greengrass, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini sat languidly on the couches and chairs. The seven Slytherins looked up, breaking away from their excitement over Daphne's announcement of her betrothal contract from Terrance Higgs, to see that their Prefects had arrived in what seemed to be good spirits. Their smirks and glinting eyes shone in the green lamplight like fire, and so the seven who'd been recently docile adopted similar looks of mischievousness.

If Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were happy about something, it only meant that their evening had the potential to be _quite_ exciting…

"We have had words with the Carrows," Draco said as he and Pansy made to their usual spot; a loveseat made of fine black leather, with silver embossed snakes. As they settled, the male Prefect went on, "Apparently, Pansy and I have been given the job of taking the Weaselette to the Forest tonight to make her help Greyback feed the Acromantula as her punishment for pulling that shite last night."

The seven Slytherins' jaws dropped and eyes widened in unison.

The evening prior had been something none had been able to really speak to each other about yet… But they did not have to mention it. Ginevra Weasley's display of courage and strength was something that NO ONE had been expecting. She was a Gryffindor, yes, they knew this. But now, _now_ , they knew _exactly_ what it meant to be one. Watching her take a Cruciatus without making a sound had been not only shocking, but completely pivotal. She'd done so of her own will, and the scowl she'd given Alecto Carrow after the third curse had been nothing but defiant; even through her tears of pain.

They did not need to mention that they respected Ginny now, but for all intents and purposes- and the all-important Slytherin reputation- none would admit it aloud to save their lives. And, hence why they'd still continue to call her by her immature "pet names".

"So," Pansy continued on for her lover, smirk still in place, "that leaves us to some business that we all must agree upon."

"Who will take our rounds? And who will be taking Longbottom's detention?" Draco clarified.

"Why would we take Longbottom's detention?" Daphne asked in justifiable confusion. Detentions weren't usually monitored by other students that weren't Prefects. But, given the current situation, including the fact that the Prefects of the other houses couldn't be "trusted", it wasn't a complete shock. But what about the Carrows? Or Snape?

"There's a very important meeting tonight," Draco answered darkly, and not one other student in the room needed to ask what meeting it would be that would take Snape and the Carrows away from the school on such short notice…

"What's Longbottom's punishment?" Millicent asked. She found the tall, lanky, clumsy Neville hilarious, and wanted to know just what she was getting into before she agreed. Feeding Acromantulas, or anything close to it, would cause her to deny the imposition.

"He has to feed Hagrid's pets and clean their stalls by hand," Pansy said. Neville had not been as mouthy or crude as Ginevra, so his punishment was not as severe as hers.

Millicent snorted at Pansy's words and rolled her eyes. She was out. She didn't do the whole… _animal thing_. When her cat died last summer, she _literally_ brushed her hands of the situation, and had not replaced her familiar, nor did she intend to.

"Theo and I will take your rounds," Blaise said from his armchair where he sat petting his own beloved black cat Orion; the handsome man looking ever menacing with his debonair air and dark lifted brow, and full lips pulled into smirk. Theo shrugged and then nodded his consent. Why the hell not? He had no plans. "I'd love to catch a member of the DA out tonight," Blaise finished while scratching Orion under his chin.

"I'm sure you would," Pansy said with a light laugh, then folded her arms.

"Keep an eye on Bones, would'ya?" Draco said whilst nodding to Blaise. "Apparently Sprout asked Snape if Susan could work in the greenhouses tonight, by herself, and he said yes..." They all looked at each other curiously. Susan was a member of the DA, but she was anywhere near as… spirited… as the rest. "She isn't a threat in my opinion," Draco went on. "So that will more than likely be a bore. She's not like the rest of her family, that's for sure."

"She probably figured out she'd be in a grave _with_ them if she didn't act right," Pansy added, looking down at her manicure. The others nodded their acceptance of the truth of her statement.

"So… That still leaves Longbottom," Draco said with a bored sigh.

"I'll do it," Daphne said with an annoyed sigh of her own. "Am I in this alone?" The brunette witch looked around the room, especially at her crew – aka; her gurlz!- and only one of them moved to reply.

"Yes," Tracey said blandly. She had a date with destiny that night, and she wasn't going to miss it for Longbottom, no matter how nice his bottom actually was.

"I ain't gonna stand around and watch that daft sod play with the Skrewts," Vince began with a scowl, "I'd end up hexin' his bollocks off!" He and his BFF Greg laughed together heartily at this nonsense.

"Alright… Well…" Daphne growled as she found she had no words. She'd be alone with Neville, but she knew he was a bleeding heart, and wouldn't do anything to hurt her. He was… honorable… so she knew that as long as she kept herself busy off in a corner, or whatever, then all should go well.

"Right, now that that's settled, Pansy and I are going to go see if Pomphrey has woken the Weaselette up yet," Draco said, standing quickly now that the business had been handled, and more had yet to be done. Malfoys liked business.

"That kick to the face was bloody gnarly…" Greg said, and Vince shook his head in agreeance, though with a smile. Once Alecto had been unable to make the younger witch break, she'd resorted to Muggle tactics and had kicked Ginny straight in the jaw; breaking the bones there and knocking the witch out cold.

That had been hard for everyone present to watch. Except Crabbe… He'd hold the image of Ginny's teeth falling out into a pool of blood for the rest of his days… all five of them.

"I'm sure she's fine. All of the Weasleys seemed to have been dropped as infants, anyhow," Millicent snarked.

Tracey giggled, said, "Well the Weasel survived, and he has the biggest head I've ever seen."

"Gross," Daphne joked crudely. Tracey rolled her eyes at her.

"Alright, loves. Good luck tonight," Pansy said.

"Theo. Blaise," Draco said as he and his girlfriend reached the door, "Don't fuck about tonight. At least not too much, alright? Do the rounds."

"Yeah, yeah," Blaise said.

"Will do, mate," Theo answered.

And, with that, the Prefects were gone, and only the seven remained.

 **Iron Army**

I built myself a fucking iron army

Though I walk the valley of death I will fear no evil.

I built myself a fucking iron army

 **(*)**

 **A/N:** A little shorty. Remember that this chap has only just skimmed the surface with foreshadowing. _Just_ the surface.

Thank you for reading, and please review!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This is the longest fuckin chapter I've ever written in my fuckin' life… _Then_ I started writing chapter 4. Anyway, writing in first person really does add length. I'm glad I decided to only do one of these.

 **Synopses:** Ginny, Draco, and Pansy learn that respect can get you a long way.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own A LOT of this. Plots only, to be honest.

 **Chapter 3. The Fighter**

Me?

Ginny Weasley?

Ginevra Molly Bloody Weasley?!

Regrets?!

Don't make me fucking laugh.

I will never regret anything I've ever done. Ever.

If you asked me if I regret dating Harry Potter, only for him to leave me, I would tell you, "Hell no! I'd take every moment I could get with him."

If you asked me if I regret writing in Tom Riddle's diary, I'd tell you, "Definitely not! Because almost _nothing_ scares me, now." If anyone should have a regret from that time, it's Percy. What arsehole tries to exorcise a demon from his baby sister using only Pepper-Up Potion?

If you asked me if I regret breaking into Snape's office intent on killing him, I'd tell you, " _Obviously_ not."

If you asked me if I regret the night of detention I got because of that stunt, I would tell you, "No. No I don't."

Anyhow, it is common knowledge that I don't bend to the will of others very easily, because being the youngest, and female, in a long line of boys made it hard to think of others as daunting. I no longer apologize, I do not plea, nor grovel, and especially not to the pulsing maggots known as the Carrows and the Slytherins. They're idiots, because even with my raging heart being worn on my sleeve, they were unaware of the obvious amount of fire inside of me. They should have been able to tell by my hair. It was written that redheads were born with a different drive; pure stubborn pigheadedness. Ron's proved this one too many times… I proved this to Alecto Carrow, and the rest of the maggots, the night she caught Nev and I entering Snape's office.

She'd stolen my wand before Crucioing me, and I did not give her the satisfaction of crying out in pain. I gritted my teeth, and I thought of nothing but Harry; of how he would have faced them all with that look of courage that made me weak in the knees. Even if he knew what he was facing was deadly, and even if he would tremble or hesitate in fear, one could always see that he was going to do what was necessary no matter what. You could see it those beautiful eyes…

He would have _never_ given them the satisfaction, so neither did I.

When Alecto had lowered her wand, and I'd sat up and raised my tear stained face to the room of my school mates, Death Eaters and the soon-to-bes, nearly all of them looked down at me with eyes wide from shock, fear, and respect. If I could have felt pride in that moment I would have, but all I'd been able to channel was hate and defiance. Even with the tears that had streamed down my cheeks, I'd seen their respect at my will… all but Alecto. Even Amycus' eyes were locked on my face, his jaw slack as he evaluated my trembling but upright form. That had been when Alecto had looked to her brother, then everyone else, and her face had contorted into one of furious, outright rage before she'd moved forward as fast as a blur to kick me square in the jaw.

All went black…

When I woke up in the infirmary some eighteen hours later- after Pomphrey had replaced the teeth I lost, fixed my jaw, and healed the pain and bruising- it was only to find Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson sitting in wait for me; as if my luck couldn't get any worse. The wizard lounged elegantly in a high-backed chair near an open window where the witch sat smoking on the sill; the light of the setting sun shining in through the clear glass.

Both looked at me curiously, neither wearing their trademark smirks/scowls. As I stirred and sat up slowly, Draco waited until I was fully upright before greeting me, "Good evening, Red."

I said nothing in return. The left side of my face throbbed ever-so-slightly, and curiosity filled me. In that moment, I did not remember the reason for my awaking in the infirmary, nor could I even begin to fathom why Draco and Pansy were the ones waiting for me to wake up. Luna's presence would have been welcome _and_ normal.

"Are you feeling better?" Pansy asked in what seemed to be a genuinely concerned tone, until her face switched back into her ugly smirk and she finished with a drawl, "Ready for your detention?"

I shook my head at them lightly in confusion, then asked, "Why am I- what? Detention?" I stumbled through all of this, and it made the blonde smile and the brunette to laugh.

"Wow," the Slytherin witch said. "Carrow must have been livid!- to kick you so hard you have amnesia."

"It could have been the Crucios," Draco suggested, and that had been when my memories returned, and, of course, my anger. Fuck the Dark Side!

"Fuck yourselves! I am _not_ getting detention on top of being tortured and brutalized!" I yelled at them. Also, fuck the other patients of the infirmary. If there were any. I hadn't had the mind to check before going off.

"Would you like to be tortured some more?" Draco asked, sounding none-too-pleased by my suggestion.

"If you'd prefer," Pansy began, "I could torture you. But I'll be a little more- _personal_ … than that dog-faced Alecto."

It was my turn to laugh. Then I asked, "Are you the pot? Or the kettle?" Pansy scowled, Draco raised an amused brow. "Or are you just the slut?"

I'd been in no position to be antagonizing the crooked bitch, but I'd never let her under my skin. Her ideas of torture- anyone's idea of torture- were nothing but a fucking sad, laughable, God dammed joke in comparison to being Tom Riddle's twelve-year-old kept mistress. "Bring it on" was swiftly becoming my life's motto. This was _war_. Torture _happened_. Death happened... _Shite_ happened, and I would do my part in ensuring that when Harry, Ron, and Hermione came back it would be to a slightly weakened Dark Side. If I could drain the morale of Voldemort's lackeys by being strong in the face of pain and adversity, then I would do it. I would break into a million offices; take a million Crucios, if it meant that I had done my part.

Even if I died trying to do so.

If all I could do was show the Death Eaters that our love was stronger than their hate, then I would bloody well do it. And, on a side note, I was far more skilled in battle than the vile, disgusting, petulant children Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. They were nothing to me, and they would never break me. Wand or no, I'd still walk away, and I would still be of the same mind.

At my jibe at her whoreishness Pansy stood from the window sill and took a few steps in my direction to flick the butt of her fag at my face. I scooted back along the bed and it landed onto the sheets before my bended knees, where it tried to catch. She obviously didn't know me very well, for I'd been trained in the art of fighting fire with fire since Fred and George began to tutor me at three, so it was with trained eyes and reflexes that I flicked the butt right back at her.

I didn't spend the time to watch the fag fly, for I was off the bed and on my feet- hate and anger pumping wildly within me- in seconds where I began to run at her to knock her down, and, hopefully, out; rugby style. But, as luck would have it, I am often none-too-bright myself, for Draco had raised his wand and had me in a body-bind right as I was about to reach Pansy. And, as luck would have it, I am an excellent shot. The fag landed in the witch's cleavage, and I listened to her shriek and panic as the fire burned her and she flailed to get it out. I only heard it for a few seconds, though, before I blacked out once more due to my head hitting the infirmary floor…

…Only for me to awaken after sundown at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, with two irate Slytherins glaring down at me.

This time, I did not have to wait to remember what happened before blacking out; their faces had been enough. It was funny to me that the two had been amongst the crowd of DEs to watch Alecto torture me. They'd also been amongst the many that'd looked at me in respect. Now they were back to their shite-bag glares.

As I felt Draco release me of the body bind he'd had me in, I couldn't help but sneer loudly, "Shove off, Parkinson! You should wear knickers while wearing a skirt! Slut!" As I'd been released, I'd been given a glimpse up her short number as a breeze blew past. It had exposed her freshly shaven- or charmed clean- sex, and I would have screamed in terror if I hadn't been so offended.

"Cunt," Pansy snapped as I stood upright, only for her to grab me by a fistful of my hair to pull my face closer to hers; which ended up being far too comical for me to pull away due to our height difference of almost a foot. "We're all alone out here, Weaselette." She took a step closer and lowered her voice unnecessarily, "So stop acting like you have the upper hand in this situation."

I glared down at her and she yanked my locks roughly towards the ground. I squealed in surprise, not pain, and growled, "Harlot!"

"You have four hours of hell ahead of you," she went on, "and you don't have to make it back if we decide to claim there was an accident…"

For a moment that I hoped didn't look like fear, my eyes darted to Draco to see if he was going to back up his girlfriend's threats. His arms were folded over his white school shirt, the night air too warm for robes, and he wore a dark frown as he stared back at me, confirming my guess that he'd side with Pansy no matter what.

"Not only is your lot out there fighting a losing battle," Draco began, "but you are too if you think you're getting out of this. And you're daft if you think we're going to allow you to keep acting this way without further punishment. Pansy," the brunette witch let go of my hair and faced the blonde as if she were his bitch and was awaiting commands, "if she keeps it up, I'd like you to take that little show you were just putting on further."

I blinked at him in confusion. His expression had changed once he'd gotten his fellow Prefect's attention, and a part of me didn't want to believe that his voice had sounded… lusty. The idea itself started a strange fire within my stomach and as the realization of what he meant sunk in, and as his face turned into a lewd smirk, I found myself swallowing rather hard in a semi-audible gulp. If that was what Pansy had meant earlier by "personal" torture, then I had to actually begin to second guess my tactics.

As I said, I'd take a million Crucios… but- sexual assault from the Slytherin Prefects..?!

My lips were clamped shut for the first time in at least a year, simply because they were quivering. They gave me what I thought were heated leers before they turned to the forest and walked into its darkness, and I was left to stare after them dumbstruck; my breath coming in short pants as my heart began to beat erratically at the thoughts and images my over-active mind gave me at the meaning of what had just transpired.

They wouldn't, would they? I was a "blood-traitor"…

They wouldn't _possibly_ touch me like that!

If it was with the intention of making me uncomfortable, perhaps…

Before too many seconds ticked by, I heard Pansy yell over her shoulder, "Come along, Red. Don't make me curse you…"

Minutes I could not measure went on in silence as I followed a meter behind the Prefects, who were using their wands to light the path before us in the darkness of the tall, thick trees. Eventually, unsurprisingly, Pansy was the one to break the silence by asking her boyfriend, "What do you think B and Theo are getting up to right now?"

" _Merlin_ knows... I swear. Those two are rarely up to any good… I'd _like_ to hope they're doing what they're supposed to. Hopefully they'll check on Bones, and _she's_ doing what _she's_ supposed to."

"I'm sure that will be exciting for them," Pansy answered. I almost quite literally heard her roll her eyes. "That chit is so bizarre… She doesn't have a personality at all… I shouldn't have been surprised that Snape said yes. She isn't a threat."

At hearing this, I decide to keep my mouth shut. There's something to be said about the element of surprise, you know? As well as "the quiet type". Susan was only introverted in _most_ social situations, but would open up if you took the time to get to know her. After she'd joined the DA, we'd all seen a different side to her, and found she was a talented witch with a sharp mind.

Also, she was a lot crazier than people gave her credit for. Justin, who knew her most from their year-long romance, had told me that the elder red-head witch had been unjustly arrested the summer before in Muggle London. The officers had cuffed her and thrown her into the back of the patrol car for, apparently, starting a riot at a plant nursery, only for the girl to flip around in her seat and proceed to shriek like a banshee as she kicked out the back window of the car, which she then used as her escape route before making away into Wizarding England.

You can't always believe what you hear, though. _Especially_ from Finch-Fletchley. But he and Susan had been dating during that time, so he probably knew the truth it. And, to prove my earlier point, red-heads, man. I mean, _I_ was caught attempting an assassination on my "Headmaster" the night previous, so…

Ten minutes more pass, and, out of boredom, I ask rather evenly, "Are we going to be there soon?" It hadn't been the walking that was getting to me. I like exercise. But I had absolutely no clue where we were going, and after the couple's earlier suggestive words, I didn't know if I wanted to be alone with them any longer. The past half hour had been spent with my thinking of ways to take the two out, like _take them out_. I'd contemplated grabbing a large rock or fallen branch to hit them with. I'd tried non-verbal wandless magic, which was something I'd tried many a time before with no results. I thought of stealing either of their wands, but that would entail getting close to them without them hearing, not to mention that they had them pointed out in front of them.

I even considered pushing their buttons to get them to come closer of their own accord. I didn't, though, because I knew their earlier threat was genuine. The Slytherins had been given far, far, far, far, far (etc.) too much leeway; neither Carrow nor Snape batted an eye at their successors. The outcomes of _that_ scenario, the one that the Prefects had made sound so suggestive, well... I was pretty sure at the time that was the _worst_ torture possible.

But there was a part of me that wanted to see if they truly were the beasts I thought they were; to see if they had the guts I knew they lacked… A part of me that was sick, or twisted, or something, that cried out for the touch of someone else. I'd been losing my sodding marbles being trapped inside the castle, and I had been watching as others had paired off and gone to handle their frustrations like normal teenagers did, where as I was left with thoughts of Harry and a longing that I tried desperately to ignore and not impose on others, as well as devious plans that entailed murder.

Harry was the man of my dreams, and he was the man I was going to marry. That didn't mean that I didn't think about others, though... But the Slyth Preefs?!

I'd been losing my _fucking mind_ in that castle!

 _That_ , or the kick to the head had _really_ fucked me up.

"Ha!" Draco laughed before he stopped walking to turn and face me. Pansy followed suit, and I stopped, leaving that meter of space between me and them. I glared at Draco's silver-eyed stare, ignored his irritating smirk as he asked, "Are you really that eager-" he paused for dramatic effect, or something, "-to feed the Acromantulas?"

I tried not to flinch at his words, but I at least let a look of shock flash over my features. It was a hereditary shortcoming in Weasley men that made them scream like wee girls every time they saw a spider. Weasley women were inherently born to protect their men from such horrors. My mum would kill them, _I_ would annihilate them… but Acromantulas? _Feeding Acromantulas_?!

"You're scared, aren't you?" Draco asked, his smirk brimming with mirth. He was always a sick bastard.

I glared at his expression, and folded my arms- I also forgot about the whole "not pushing buttons" thing- before asking, "And _you_ aren't? From what I understand _you_ can't even pass Magical Creatures, Malfoy. I heard _all_ about Buckbeak."

The blonde, though I will admit that he's handsome, gave me an ugly glare before he took two long strides where he entered my personal space. His face was only inches from mine, his pointed features lit up from the Lumos of his wand, and he growled, " _I_ don't have to feed them, Weaselette. _You_ do. You- and _Greyback_." I definitely flinched at this last statement. That name grated every time I heard it, and my heart reached out for my handsome brother who had been permanently scarred by the werewolf.

To say the least, I became aware that my luck truly could get worse.

"I've already warned you, Ginny." His tone had softened, but I flinched yet again at the ease at which he used my name, and he went on as he leaned closer, "Don't tempt me. I will give you over to Greyback in a heartbeat, and I'll tell him to feed you to the spiders whenever he's done with you. Pansy and I will go back to the school, tell Snape that Greyback turned on you, and have a cuppa while the Dark Lord sends the Carrows to dispose of that fowl beast for killing his leverage." He reached up to push a strand of hair behind my ear, and I am, for the first time since I was 12, thoroughly, shamelessly, frozen through to the bones with fear… and something else I couldn't place…

The thought of stealing his wand didn't even float across my mind as my body stiffened at his touch and I stared up into his dark, illuminated eyes.

"Because, let's face it," he went on in my silence, "the new world will be far better off without that cretin, and without a witch like you. As far as our side goes, not one of us gives a shite about your blood status anymore. You are dirt- like a Mudblood- and the only reason you still breathe, little Red, is because of that gash between your legs that has Harry Potter head over heels for you." At this point, I am not only frozen, but somehow trembling at the same time. I have no words.

"Wonder Boy will mourn for you," Draco set his finger under my chin to keep my head up; to ensure the continuation of the eye contact I'd been powerless to break. "But none of _us_ will. So allow me to give you some words that you can literally live by… Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Draco stepped back to where he'd originally stopped, standing close to Pansy with an easy stance, as if he hadn't threatened a girl his junior with near unspeakable horrors seconds earlier. The witch beside him gave me a curious look before settling on a smirk and turning to continue our walk. Draco quickly followed suit without another look in my direction, and, once again, I needed a few seconds to compose myself before following them.

We only needed to walk ten more minutes after Draco, of all the fucking sissies in the world, had found the words that finally shut me up; that struck real fear into my heart; that made me do as I was told.

Me?

Do what a Death Eater told me to do?!

Let alone the Death Eater _Draco Malfoy_?!

Fuck, life was truly horrible… Days and days of what had felt like hell had passed before Luna returned to school. That had only been a week prior, and until that point I'd been running on hopes. The past seven days I'd been running on dreams, because Luna informing us of "The Trio's" survival had given us all a new fire… hence why Neville and I had plotted on Snape's life. I claimed that Harry's return would be that much easier if he had one less arsehole to deal with, and Neville was too wise a man to stop me, and too much of a gentleman to let me go alone, no matter what consequences he faced.

I only mention things like "hope" and "dreams" and "fire" because all of those things left me as we reached our destination. We entered a clearing that surrounded the entrance of the Acromantula nest; a gaping hole in what seemed to be massive trees all strung together with the silken web of giant spiders; its giant mass pushing back into the forest as far as the Lumos' would allow me to see. Of course, it was, but I had had no idea what I was walking into when I reached it, or the amount of fear the clearing would bring as I began detention.

When I had asked Ron what it had looked like, he'd jumped six feet into the air whilst giving a loud shriek, and sat at the far end of the couch, never to answer me. When I'd asked Harry, he shrugged and said around his chocolate frog, "Eet wasch pri'ee scawy…", and that was it. The answer hadn't surprised me, because I'd only asked this a little over a year ago, and Harry had been through worse shite than some spiders by that point. I suppose I had too, and so had Ron, but my brother was weird.

Still, no one could have prepared me for what had to be, hands down, the worst detention of my life.

This was only made a billion- I repeat; _a billion!_ \- times worse when my eyes landed on the hulking form of one Fenrir Greyback. He sat near the entrance on one of its lower structural logs, and he was staring at us all with a toothy, fangy, grin; the man probably long aware of our arrival at this point due to his hybridized olfactory and auditory functions, and he greeted us,

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" His smile did not waver, nor did my foreign friend, all-out fear. The sight of him only made all of this worse, and the reality of Draco and Pansy's earlier threats became all too real. If I messed up, they really _could_ leave me there with him.

"Quite," Draco answered, his voice holding no pleasantry, though some timidity. I knew he'd be scared as well, though now that we were in the belly of the beast I truly couldn't blame him. And, somewhere within me, I admired him for being able to keep his highborn, straight-backed posture while facing the vicious man. Pansy and I had remained as far away from Greyback as possible, almost huddling together with how close we'd gotten subconsciously. I had stepped through the clearing after her, and had been unable to take another step once I'd reached her side and had been able to see the werewolf that waited. The fact that we leaned toward each other for support had been unintentional, no doubt.

"The moon could be fuller in my opinion," Greyback mused, standing to his full 6' 5". I heard Pansy swallow loudly, and I fought the urge to join her.

Draco, who I now assumed must have seen Greyback rather regularly, did not move as the elder man took a step towards us, and instead answered calmly, "I'm sure you _would_ feel that way." Greyback's face adopted a dark smirk at this. "We've brought the girl who has detention, so you two should go ahead and get on with it. Pansy and I will be staying over there." Draco twitched his wand in my and Pansy's direction, towards the trail that led to school, letting me know that the two Prefects had no intention of following the werewolf and I as we entered the nest.

If it had been anyone else but the Prefects- or the Carrows- I may have tried to plead with them not to leave me alone with Greyback. My heart felt like it was going to burst up my throat then out of my mouth, and I found that the sensation wouldn't have let me plead even if I'd wanted to. My mouth was still clamped shut from my abject horror, and I looked between the three others with eyes as wide as saucers.

Predictably, my reaction only made them all look rather happy, Greyback far more than the other two, because he gave a deep, rumbling laugh before saying, "Come now. I've given you no reason to fear me. Come out from the shadows and let me have a look at you."

My bottom lip trembled. I wanted to tell him I did have a reason, my brother was my reason. I also wanted to say that there was no way I'd willingly walk out of the shadows just so that he could sum me up, but my heart beating in my mouth made it hard to talk.

Unfortunately, Pansy did so for me, "You almost killed her brother, I hear. Bill Weasley. Apparently, he looks like a scratching post."

I took three or four sideways steps away from the evil witch whom my body had leaned towards for comfort as Fenrir gave another loud, barking mad bark/laugh, and took another step towards me to squint at me through Pansy's Lumos. He said, "The Weasley girl? I should have known… But as I said, the moon could be fuller. This- _wand light_ does nothing for my eyes." He spat "wand light" as if it burned his lips, then gave me a pointed, yellow stare as he said with a smile, "Yes... I remember you now…"

All of this, their words, their taunts, it made fuel for the fire that constantly burned within me. I couldn't help but scowl at them all. This didn't seem to faze them, Greyback least of all. He turned to begin walking to the other side of the clearing, and called over his shoulder to me, "Their food is this way. The pack and I brought it in earlier… I was going to start moving it for you, but then where's the punishment in that?" My scowl deepened. "Come on, girl, before the spiders get restless and come eat you. Luckily for me, they have no interest in werewolves."

I glared deeply at the two Slytherins as they stepped aside so that I may follow Greyback to wherever he'd left the "food". Acromantula were carnivorous, so I could only imagine what "the pack" had left for me as I walked past the Prefects and back into the woods some meters behind my canid "coworker". I kept my distance, which only gave me the illusion of security. When it came down to it, I didn't have a wand, and Greyback was at least five of me in weight, so I the distance between us was just to keep me from crawling out of my skin.

The sound of leaves crackling behind me made me jump as I turned to see the source of the noise. My eyes landed on Draco and Pansy. They followed us, which I had not expected them to do after they'd moved to let me pass them, and I tried to chalk up the feeling of relief I had at the sight of them to the fact that they were my only saving-grace. Odd, yes? Well, they were, and I was glad to see them none-the-less, though I'd never admit it.

I'm sure they knew, anyway.

I smelled the Acromantula food before I saw it. Pansy had as well, because I heard her make a small gagging noise only seconds after the foul stench reached my own nostrils. When the pile of dead animals came into sight, I too had to suppress the urge to vomit, for I could tell which dismantled pieces of what belonged to which species. The rump of the unicorn that Greyback chose to carry first was the most noticeable, and it caused me to take a step back into Pansy in disgust. She did not move away, only grabbed onto my arm to stop me from continuing backwards, but then did not let me go as she watched the colossal man pick up half of what was once a majestic animal with great ease.

I did not pull away from her- or her me- as Greyback swung the severed buttocks about, the hind, hoof-less legs flopping with the man's movements, and he said to the Prefects, "If you two are here, you might as well use those _wands_ of yours and help us. I don't want to be out here all night any more than you lot." He walked toward us back along the path, and Draco used his body to push Pansy and I out of the way and off the trail. The blonde's long arms wrapped around us to help us move as he did so, because she and I were so sickened we couldn't walk of our own accord.

Strangely enough, the feeling of the two of them so close was comforting, and Draco acting as a wall between me and the werewolf was most welcomed. I tried to remember when it was I switched; when it was that my Gryffindor courage left me completely; at what point did I feel that I needed protection, and that Draco was a man suitable for the role? Perhaps if I had had more than ten minutes to digest the fact that this was going to be my detention, I may not have felt caught unawares. That was the Slytherins' fault, but I really hadn't been able to think of that once I'd entered the clearing, and once I watched Greyback carry half a unicorn carcass off towards an Acromantula nest.

Once the elder man was well on his way, the three of us he'd left behind turned from staring after him and back to the large pile of dead animals. For a few seconds we stared before I felt rather than saw Draco move away from me. My body noted his absence, and then it did so again when Pansy followed her counterpart to stand near the macabre mountain that I couldn't tear my gaze away from.

Eventually they looked back to me, and Draco said in a low voice, "Get to it, Red. We'll do part of it… Like he said, though, where's the punishment if we do it for you?"

"Then-" I took a deep breath and cleared my throat, which had gone dry, then asked, "Then why help me at all?" It wasn't that I didn't want the help, but seriously? Why?

"We want to get out of here, too!" Pansy snapped in a voice just above a whisper, but it lacked any callousness. She was as frightened as I was, the Death Eater's daughter, so I didn't respond. I should have seen her answer coming. Slytherins were almost always in it for their own ends, not because they wanted to help someone they may respect… like I'd naively hoped for a moment.

I watched as Draco cast "Nox", and then began to levitate as many pieces of carcass as he could. Pansy did the same. I took slow steps towards the pile, and held my breath as I reached for the leg of a decapitated goat to pull it to the nest. I wasn't one to be squeamish or weak stomached- I had _so_ many brothers- but the sight of dead animals made me not only sad, but woozy, and I was sure I looked green by the time I got the goat to the entrance of the nest where Greyback had thrown the unicorn carcass.

He instructed us, "Don't leave them in a pile… You have to spread it out, so that they all can eat… Ever seen an Acromantula fight?"

His words did nothing for my stomach, and the occasional, audible "click-clack" of pincers escaping from the mouth of the cave every time I dropped the food only made me begin to shiver and shake.

Draco and Pansy did one more load before returning to the path that led to the school and sat on elegant chairs that Draco conjured to watch us from a safe distance; the glimmer of a magical shield visible due to Pansy's Lumos. They spoke in low voices, and definitely did not speak to us, and so I went about my business with as much dignity as possible, even though I scowled the entire time that I worked with Greyback on our project. I tried like hell to ignore the glances, leers, and smiles the werewolf gave me as we passed one another; the man doing all of the heavy lifting of horse, bear, and boar, leaving me all of the small animals such as foxes, birds, raccoons, dogs, cats, goats, sheep and rabbits.

I never asked where/how they got say many.

I also made sure not to be curious as to where the other half of the unicorn was, for I never saw it.

I also made sure to not use my ears, because the "click-clacking" that came from the nest grew with the elongating line of dead animals. At one point, I thought I heard one speak!- say, "Wait… The werewolf is still near…"

Even though his presence kept me "safe" from the Acromantulas, when Greyback and I were both at the pile alone, I noticed myself shake harder as I felt his eyes on me. I'd never wished for my wand so badly, not even when Alecto was cursing me. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck and arms stood on end the entire age-long minutes that the werewolf and I spent unaccompanied, and I was sure to give he and I some space, and adjust my work load accordingly, to be sure that the incident would not be repeated.

After a little over an hour, the mountain became a tiny pile of small animals only, leaving me smelling like rot, covered in blood, and beyond sickened; I'd fought vomiting at least ten more times since I'd first done so. It was on this last trip that Greyback chose to stand in wait for me as I made my way back slowly. I'd been trying to wait for his return along the trail before returning the pile, but that was a failure. I already knew my streak of good luck ended the night before when I'd been caught by Alecto; I just hadn't realized that _everything_ was going to go downhill from then on.

Greyback's bone-chilling grin was on his face when I finally made to stand some meters away. The way he looked at me made it difficult for me to go any closer, not that I'd wanted to be that close in the first place. I wondered, for a moment, if running back to the Prefects and pleading to leave was an option, because I knew he'd waited for me there on purpose.

I also knew the Prefects hated me, and that I'd "earned" this punishment, so there was no turning back.

"We're almost done, Weasley girl," he said with a gruff laugh. "I didn't think you'd have it in you." I did not reply, and I tried like hell not to look as cautious as I knew I did. Animals liked that; the smell of fear; the mutual, mortal awareness between a predator and its kill. I knew that he knew that I knew he was watching me, and I could feel the air around me begin to stiffen with my body as I watched his eyes move up and down my form. I felt the urge to vomit rise once more, and I knew he could see my aversion to his attention.

"I should have guessed, though," he went on. "Your brother is quite courageous, and you two look _so_ alike…"

My bottom lip trembled again, this time because I was going to yell at him. The sound of him speaking of Bill made anger rear its ugly head. But I knew better than to say something to him about it; he wasn't the Prefects. I was already treading in dangerous water, and Draco and Pansy were still well out of earshot. Unless I screamed... How long would I have after doing so before they could rescue me?

 _Would_ they rescue me?

"Oh, fuck," I say under my breath, because reality likes to hit people, _hard_ , every now and again. There were _so_ many reasons why they wouldn't; far more than why they would.

"What was that?" he asked me, taking two large steps closer with his left ear cocked lightly in my direction so as to hear me repeat myself.

He still held a small smile.

I was still trembling in both fear and anger, and I took one instinctual step back, which he took as an invitation to continue his advance. With a trembling voice I say, "I- I didn't say anything."

"Hm… It sounded like you said something. Speak up, little Weasley." I hated his smile. I sent disturbed goosebumps up and down my flesh.

The back of my foot hit a branch, and I stumbled backwards into a tree. I put one hand back to stabilize myself, then I put one hand out in a lame attempt to keep him at bay, for he was only a meter away now. I knew it was useless, but I had no other options. Yelling for help was not an option.

Was my only option to die?

Was that what Alecto had expected? Wanted?

Were Draco and Pansy given orders to bring me here to leave me alone as they'd threatened, on the Carrow witch's orders? The look she'd given me the night before, the one of complete hatred, was precisely that and probably more. Why wouldn't she instruct the Prefects to leave me to die?

Feed the Acromantula _and_ Greyback in one shot. Boom! Happy lackeys!

"I didn't- say anything," I finally spit out in a panicked tone.

I could live through Tom Riddle, get loved and then dumbed by Harry Potter, break into Severus Snape's office multiple times, face a room of Death Eaters, and take a kick to face by Alecto Carrow, but I _could not_ face Fenrir Greyback at the mouth of the Actromantula nest any longer. I was breaking under the stress, and I hated that the Carrows were winning. They were winning because the moment where Greyback stood only a foot away from me as I pushed my back into a tree actually made me pray, "Merlin. If you get me out this, I will _never_ attempt murder again."

"I could _swear_ you said something," he said, and I was aware of the timbre of his voice, and how it rumbled in his chest as well as my own.

"Greyback… We- we should ge- get back to work," I fumble. I watch as he lifts his hand to reach out for me, and I close my eyes as his rough, dirty fingers touch my hair and grab a strand near my ear to play with it lightly; far lighter than a man his size, with his bloodlust, should be capable of.

His soft caress was somehow more painful than a kick to the face.

"Should we now?" he asked, dipping lower to where his face lingers above my own, the man taking in a deep breath to draw my scent into his nose.

I bit my tongue to quiet the whimper that tried to escape. I had never wanted to see Draco or Pansy, ever, and now I was praying for them for dear life. Tears began to well in my eyes when Greyback tucked the strand of hair behind my ear and let the tip of his sharp nail trail the side of my neck, down the short plunge of my shirt, and drag across the first button hard enough that it popped off and danced across the forest floor.

It is all I can to do to breath instead of sob.

When his other hand reached out to hold the dip of my waist, I finally make a sound. It was undoubtedly a whimpering cry, even though it sounded foreign; as if it didn't come from me. It had, and another followed when I heard the sharp nail of his pointer finger snag and rip down the front button seem of my shirt. His action was agonizingly slow, and I didn't dare open my eyes to swear at him or glare openly as I had with Alecto. You know what they say about different animals…

It was already too late to do anything about my situation, and I knew the man was getting off on my fear. The more I cried, the more I balked, if I screamed for help, the more he would probably like it. So I chose to stay as quiet as possible; I _forced_ myself to think of anything but reality and my shite luck.

"Are you crying?" He asked me with a smile in his voice, and all of my resolve and will shattered with a louder sob, and then another as the pad of his thumb moved to swipe a lose tear away.

"Oi! Prick!" The sound of Pansy's voice forced my eyes open in enough time for me to watch Greyback pull his tear-wetted thumb from his mouth, and a brilliant red light hit him in his shocked face before it took him off of his feet and to the ground with a loud "thump". I looked over to the Prefects who stood with wands drawn; the end of Pansy's glowing red.

Draco sent a body-bind at the werewolf before his girlfriend moved to take my hand and pull me away from the tree, then to stand behind the blonde whose face was pulled into a very annoyed scowl. Taking a number of steps towards the heap on the ground, Draco said, "Crucio!" The werewolf did not writhe in pain as all others did- body-binds made that difficult- but we all could hear the sound of his cries of pain escaping his throat.

Draco only left the curse on him for twenty seconds before he lowered his wand and said, "I knew better than to trust you alone with her… That's too bad. I'll have to inform our Lord that you attempted to harm one of our own." I blinked at his back, as confused by him as ever, for his last sentence contradicted what he'd told me not hours ago; of how I was nothing more than dirt and leverage. "You will do well to remember that _you_ are not one of us, and you will do well to remember not to touch things you shouldn't… Crucio!"

"Come on," Pansy said quietly as she pulled me away from the men and towards the clearing, past the line of death at the mouth of the noisy nest, past the place where their conjured chairs no longer sat, and towards the school. We traveled five minutes, and as we walked all I'd been able to think about was how I wanted to make as much space between me and that beast as possible, and how the Prefects had actually come to save me, even though I'd begun to think otherwise.

The feeling of Pansy's hand in mine was warm, and comforting, and small and soft, and the entire opposite of Greyback's. I did not once think of letting it go, and she did not let me go, and at her comforting touch I thought of Draco, and at the thought of him being left behind I gripped her hand tighter and forced her to a stop, asking, "Draco?"

I swear I saw her smile, even if for just a second, before she said, "He'll catch up." Then she turned and continued to pull me along by my hand, not stopping until we'd gone five minutes further.

Pansy conjured the same chairs she and Draco had been sitting on earlier and pushed me down into one before she asked, "Did he bite you? Scratch you?" She looked concerned, _genuinely_ this time.

I shook my head, licked my lips, said, "No."

"Are you sure?" She asked, pushing my hair back and checking my neck, then my shoulders; the blood of the animals making it difficult for her to discern what was mine and what was theirs. "Be calm. You're alright," she said lightly as she began to inspect the tear in my shirt, and the skin beyond, speaking quietly so as not to alarm me by touching a place that Greyback had. After deciding that he hadn't broken the skin on my chest, and after checking my arms and legs quickly, she said with a loud sigh, "Fuck."

"Th-thank you," I said, and her eyes flash up to mine where she knelt at my feet. She quickly stood, brushed off her knees, and sat back into her chair, her well-practiced look of boredom back on her face.

"Don't think too far into it," she said whilst inspecting her nails. I tried to do as she said, because to be honest with you that would have been the best thing to do.

But I couldn't.

The two had had me wondering about their intentions all night, and I couldn't decide if it was all an act, or if it was all an act, if you know what I mean? Were they pretending they didn't care? Were they pretending that they did? Who knew when it came to Slytherins..? I sure has hell had no clue, but I was trying, because they threatened to feed me to the very monster they'd saved me from; even though they hated me, even though I was so positive they wanted to see me dead.

Didn't they?

I was the enemy…

 _They_ were the enemy…

"Weaselette!" Draco's loud voice broke me from my reverie, in which I was unaware that I had been staring at Pansy- while she continued to stare at her nails perhaps a tad too intently and she and I both jumped as we turned to face him in our seats. "The next time you're going to get raped, yell "rape"!"

I hadn't had much oomph in the last couple of hours, but his tone, his words, irritated me. I didn't yell, but I was definitely not whispering when I answered, "And who exactly was I to call for? You?! Parkinson?! You just threatened to let him do exactly what he was about to do not two hours ago, and I was supposed to call _you_ for help?!"

"Yes!" he yelled.

I scoffed, gave him an incredulous look, and then said, "Well I'm glad we cleared up that bollocks!"

"If you really thought we'd let him do that to you, you haven't been paying attention, Weaselette," Pansy said calmly from her chair. I looked to her at this, and noticed she had a cigarette in her hand. I didn't see it before. I took it from her, and she seemed not to mind. She merely conjured another one.

"What the fuck does that mean?" I ask her. Slytherin apparently had _two_ languages; Parseltongue, and manipulative malarkey.

So much was flashing through my mind, the day's events becoming a blur so big it was overwhelming, and I had slept through 18 hours of it! Their answers were just as confusing as the last, and I couldn't handle the darkness of the forest any longer. I had no wand, I was in enemy territory surrounded by enemies, and I was covered in animal guts. I was unhappily reminded of this last fact when I put the cigarette to my lips for the first time and was able to smell my hand.

I dropped the fag and stood from my chair to run for a tree trunk, where I used it for support as I finally failed at fighting the urge to vomit. I'd been through quite a few high-stress situations, but it had been awhile before my torture the night before, and then you add the detention.

I must have gotten rusty…

Or, maybe I'd almost gotten violated by a werewolf? Who knows?

I heard Pansy sigh loudly in annoyance before I heard her walk up behind me. The light of her wand went out and I heard her start casting a few whispered spells. She removed the mess from my clothes, hands, chest, and face, fixed my shirt, and when I turned to face her I felt the tell-tale sensation one felt when using a mouth cleaning spell, and puffy-eye reducing charm. Pansy _would_ think to add something like that to the list… Snakes were said to swallow their tears.

She grabbed my arm and pulled me back to the chair, pushed me into it lightly, and passed me a newly lit fag before saying, "If we wanted to kill you-

"- we would have done it already," Draco finished for her sternly. He was still glaring at me, and I easily ignored his look as my eyes shot back to him.

"What? Are you saving me for your _Lord_ or something?"

"No," he answered.

"For Alecto?" I asked.

The both spat out, "Psh! No!"

"Then what? You don't hate me, is that it? You actually " _care_ " about me?" Neither answered, they just continued to look bored or annoyed. I got frustrated, still worked up and shocked, and yelled, "What is it then?!"

"Shut up, Red," Draco said evenly, though his scowl remained. "You're making too much noise, and you're taking up too much bloody time. We need to get out of here before the temporary bind I put on that arsehole wears off and he decides to finish what we all started back there. Or, maybe we'll be lucky enough to meet the Acromantulas."

I was getting ready to reply when Pansy grabbed me by the arm once more, and pulled me from the chair she spelled away before we headed off down the trail. I pulled my arm from her grip, ignoring the feeling of unease at losing her touch, and said, "You're a little too hand-sy for my taste, Pansy."

"You need to get over it, Ginger," she answered. "Just like you need to get over the fact that we saved you. Who cares why, just thank us and be done with it."

"Parkinson," I said immediately, loudly- with purpose- and she stopped to turn back to look at me expectantly. Without asking I moved to hug her, and said, "Thank you." I broke away before the embrace could even register with her, and I turned swiftly to give the awkward, stock-still Draco a hug as well. "Thank you, Malfoy." I broke away and didn't make eye contact with either of them as I continued down the path, this time leaving them to stare after me for a few seconds before they followed.

We reached the edge of the Forest an hour earlier than what had been projected, with hours left before midnight. The thirty minutes of what had remained of our quick walk back to the castle was spent in the usual silence, which did not ease the activity in my mind. Many subjects were covered, and, one of them I am ashamed to admit, was the fact that my view of the Prefects had changed.

As we reached the edge of the Forest, the point at which we began our adventure, I remembered the interaction between Pansy and I, and Draco's urging her to continue if I kept being a bitch. Subconsciously, I stopped in the same spot at which I awoke, and looked down at my feet for a second before I turned around to face the pair that stopped only inches behind me. We were all still silent as I looked at them, as they looked at me, and I found myself biting my lip in nervousness as the seconds ticked by.

I was having a problem, because I'd been harassed all evening, including sexually, and for some reason I was contemplating telling them about my new discovery; the fact that my opinion of them had not only changed, but so had my view of them as people. Of how I actually thought them people now, and of how the night had seen fit to show them in a different light… a light that had seen fit to show me a side of them I found attractive. Draco could be courageous, instead of being a sniveling coward; Pansy could be compassionate, instead of being a heartless bitch.

I'd found some kind of respect for them from all of this…

To what end would my admitting all of this take us, I didn't know. All I knew in that moment was that I knew I found them attractive, and they found me attractive enough to consider having me- even if at that time it had been for some sick amusement- and I was on the verge of opening my mouth and saying it aloud.

But I didn't, instead I said, "Uh…", because even with all of the courage in a situation as non-lethal as that one, I couldn't seem to say it. It didn't seem right. Not because of Harry, because Harry and I were not together at this point; everyone knew it, so there'd be little guilt on all levels… But what the fuck would that mean after the time the three of us had just spent together?

"Red..?" Pansy asked with a slight lift to her brow, crossing her arms under her chest. "What is it?"

"I- I, uh…" I try again, sigh, and then give up and say, "I know I thanked you, and we were supposed to be done with it, but I need to know why you saved me. It doesn't make any sense. This is war, and we are enemies, and for all intents and purposes you shouldn't have. Why?"

The couple looked to each other, staring at each other for a few seconds, before they turned back for Draco to say, "Because you deserve better than that. I know I said some- _things_ earlier… but I could never actually do it. There's-" he paused, and ran a hand through his air in a short pass, as if he were trying to cover up his nervous tick by making it quick, "- there's a lot of things I am incapable of, and you- you're too-"

"What he's trying to say," Pansy cut in with a sigh, "even though we shouldn't say it and if you tell anyone we did, we will deny it all, is that we have too much respect for you to let you meet your end at the hands of some animal… You're a witch, and a good one, and that would have been too far."

I can't help the tiny smile I give, even though I try. I also can't help grabbing one of each of their hands and pulling them back into the shadows of the forest, where I let Draco's hand go so that I could turn to Pansy and place my lips to hers. She stiffened against me, but did not pull away right away. It took her a few seconds, and when she did she asked in surprise, "What the fuck?"

I frowned at her, gauged her reaction, noted the fact that she still hasn't moved away, nor had Draco, and said, "I'm going to give you some advice that you'll do well to remember. Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

She did, and accepted my second kiss whole-heartedly.

 **The Fighter**

I will always fall and rise again  
Your venomous heroine  
'Cause I am a survivor  
Yeah, I am a fighter

I will fall and rise above  
And in your hate I find love  
'Cause I'm a survivor  
Yeah, I am a fighter

 **(*)**

 **A/N:** Ginny has a thing for heroes… Hey! I didn't put that shit in writing. JKR did.

 **A/N:** I love my BETA, **I was BOTWP**. :) Even with her busy life, she still finds time to edit. Thank her by reading her fics!

I'll be back. Please review.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** This wasn't supposed to be chap 4, but the other wasn't even close to ready, so I decided I would switch them around. There isn't any smut, but here are some silly fun times.

 **Synopses:** Peeves loves to chase Moaning Myrtle around, pestering her by singing rhymes he makes up about her. One night, the poltergeist finds new targets.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own HP. Or ITM.

 **Chapter 4. Lost at Sea**

Peeves loved to do all kinds of off the wall, three sheets to the dumb fucking shit, whenever he found the chance. If it flitted across his "brain", he bloody well did it, and with absolutely _no_ qualms. Even if it meant facing the Bloody Baron, it never truly stopped him from acting on impulse. He was a _poltergeist_ for Godric's sake! He existed to pull off the most surprising, horrifying, pain-inducing, tear-jerking pranks known to existence; animal, man; living, dead, what have you!

It was _literally_ his reason for existing, so, from the beginning of his creation, Peeves searched for any and all ways to make hell for those around him, so that he could have endless "food"- aka, chaos- to survive upon.

One day, a few years prior to the Final Battle at Hogwarts- only a year after his one-thousandth "birthday"- the bored and wandering poltergeist had had the bright idea of picking on one Myrtle "Moaning Myrtle" Warren; the Muggleborn witch turned ghost after Tom Riddle set Lady Lifetake the Basilisk on her.

Up until that first night Peeves had decided to work Myrtle up until she tore off with bone-chilling shrieks of despair down the drain, he hadn't paid her any mind. Then _it_ happened, and, to say the least, he was _hooked_. So much so that he created countless rhymes in her honor. And by "it", I mean the one time he'd gone in search of her some months after the first, and he sang her the new song he'd thought up: "Myrtle, Myrtle, _far_ past infertile, spends her time as a toilet turtle. She got killed in the potty, and her howls are so shoddy, it's too bad that they'll be eternal!"

Myrtle had made the high-pitched squeak of depression he'd been hoping for, and then turned from him to fly off through the ceiling. He took off after her, resonantly singing yet another pantomime rhyme, "Myrtle, Myrtle, trips on the hurdles, choked herself with her grandma's girdles! She's cried forty years, simply _drowning_ in tears, so you could flush her away in a circle.", and continued to sing it over and over as the witch flew through walls and pipes, ceilings and floors, in an attempt to get away from him.

That was how his love for harassing her was born, only for it to evolve into something far greater… a poltergeists equivalent to blood-lust.

She, of course, did not like any of the rhymes he came up with, which only made him think of new ones every chance he was able- which ended up being all fucking day every fucking day of eternity- only for him to find her and sing-song, "Myrtle, Myrtle! I have a jingle!" and that was all the ghost-witch would need to fly off of her broom handle with sickeningly obnoxious wails; sounds Peeves alone loved.

And, _oh_... how he did.

The students, faculty and staff didn't appreciate Peeve's favorite, long-standing past time any more than Myrtle did, but what did any of their mortal qualms have to do with his eternal joy? Nothing, that's what! He would chase Myrtle every chance he got- even long after they were all dead- due to any cause that tickled his fancy. If he was bored, or lonely, or hadn't laughed in at least twenty-four hours, he'd go in search of her, and it would all start again: Peeves chasing a crying, "suicidal" Myrtle through any wall, floor, door, pipe, or scenario of any kind, singing, "Myrtle, Myrtle, once so vernal, got hit in the head with Tom Riddle's journal! She was too busy bleating and noisily retreating to her self-pity and her girl urinal!"

And _man,_ scenarios? Peeves had seen some scenarios…

Five nights previous to the Final Battle, while he'd been out with Myrtle, serenading her with his most current hit ditty ("Myrtle, Myrtle, chokes and gurgles, cries so loud your goat milk curdles (etc)…"), he'd followed the ghost-witch through the pantries where a triad of rutting students hadn't even noticed them pass through. That very same evening, he'd seen Minerva McGonagall threatening a very drunk Horace Slughorn, only to float through a strong smelling tower, just above a pair of delirious Professors that didn't even seem to care that him and Myrtle had interrupted their smoke session.

He saw Luna Lovegood, the strange, blonde Ravenclaw that often spoke to him kindly, bounding around the third floor corridor after hours, and he said nothing about it to Filch as he'd passed the Caretaker on his way back from the grounds. Argus seemed none-too-pleased about Peeves indulging in "Myrtle, Myrtle", but hadn't even stopped to scold him as he limped towards his quarters. That was strange behavior for the man, but Peeves took it as a blessing… Whatever that was…

At one point, the poltergeist lost his "amore", and was forced to fly about aimlessly in search of her. This was when he saw it… or, rather, _them_ : the Carrows- the brother and sister- shagging on the witch's desk. The last Peeves had checked with mortal customs, they didn't usually allow such acts between siblings. Not anymore, anyway. 980 A.D. was a different time...

Either way, the ghost was wildly intrigued by the act all of the sudden, for he'd had many an instance to spy on the humans in their most intimate times he'd long, long, long lost interest in. If he wasn't attempting to pour a bucket of ice-water on the naked couple/couples/groups (what have you), then he didn't stick around. But this time, he couldn't help but linger.

Peeves liked to have dirt on people, so that he could pick on them, but he had a different use for the information he procured that night… something called blackmail.

He wasn't one to get mixed up in the shite that the mortals brought about on themselves, but Peeves did not, repeat; did not, like the Carrows. They had created a large amount of chaos for him to feed upon, but they were aiding in the destruction of his beloved home! They were also doing something to the students, for they'd become too depressed to have any real fun with. They would all ran off seething- in an unenjoyable way- or even crying… in a far less enjoyable way than the seething. Their usual annoyance had turned into some physiologically broken, adolescent/teen angst performance that he cared for nil.

He wanted the Carrows _gone_ , as well as Snape, for the new Headmaster- even being the double agent he was- still facilitated the Dark siblings. And if Peeves could find a way to keep the two from running about like they owned _his_ castle, then so be it.

With an _at least_ evil grin, the poltergeist left the room without a word… for now. He didn't think of Myrtle but for two seconds in his departure through the wall before he began to sing lightly, "Carrows, the Carrows, both got shot with Cupid's arrows, one is fat and the other is narrow…" with the idea of performing the new songs he planned to create before the entire school at lunch the next day if the two didn't agree to his terms.

 **Lost at Sea**

My beautiful liar  
Why are you crying  
On your knees  
You've crucified yourself  
And now denial is rising

Why  
So tell me

 **A/N:** Please review. It may give me the kick I need to finish chap 5, which is Neville's detention with Daphne.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** It's been a while since I had a muse for this fic. I can say I'm excited that it's back.

 **Synopses:** Neville must spend the evening cleaning the barns, closely watched by Daphne.

 **Disclaimer:** Nope. Not the one.

 **Chapter 5.**

 **Roots Pt. 1**

Neville met Daphne at the bottom of the grand staircase at 7:30 p.m. for his detention.

At first, he was not sure if he should approach her, because he'd been planning on heading to Hagrid's liveries and meeting the half-giant there, hoping the Professor would be his "guard" for the evening. Once the brunette witch had turned to look up at him expectantly, hands folded in front of her and eyes gleaming with her small smirk, he realized that the Slytherins had sent their own sentry. What he and Ginny had attempted to do the night before had warranted the Gryffindors few mercies, so he should have expected it- a Slytherin as his guard- instead of being given the luxury of having his friend as his companion.

He felt nervous about Daphne being in charge for the night, for sure. He wasn't nervous about much these days- he had broken into Snape's office for the second time the night before- but speaking to a beautiful girl, which Daphne most certainly was, was still hard for him to deal with. Granted, Slytherin girls weren't really girls to him anymore, they were more like blokes to the sexually comfortable, though straight as an arrow, Neville. He didn't want to touch them for any reason. Speaking to them was still too awkward, so he quickly decided to interact with the green-clad witch as little as possible.

All of this had been decided upon by the time they stood face to face, and he greeted her thus, "Greengrass."

"Longbottom," she replied with a skyward twitch of her right brow. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

He nodded, for he was not necessarily thrilled about mucking stalls by hand under the Slytherin's scrutinizing gaze, and the sooner he could finish the task the happier he'd be. Together, with Daphne leading the way, the two exited the grand entrance, walked around the school, passed the greenhouses, and in the late-evening sun descended the trail towards the barns which sat on the edge of the forest; the school's animals and students protected from predators by wards.

Over the course of time it took for them to travel to the barns, Neville had had quite a few inner monologues. He'd also had time to review the images of Ginny being tortured the night previous. He'd done so almost the entirety of the night before, as he sat in the dungeons, chained to a wall, angry and mortified, and possibly suffering from some sort of shock from watching someone he loved being Crucio'd repeatedly. His guilt over the situation was great, but there had been nothing he could do while standing at wand-point in a room full of Death Eaters and Slytherins alike. It would have been asking for trouble, if not death, to stir something up while Alecto was already on the warpath. He had led a number of riots in his day, but the last one he'd staged had gotten a large number of the DA students cursed, beaten or chained.

Ginny had asked for it when she'd told Alecto, "Do your worst, you ugly _bitch_!" She had, but that had given Neville a small boost of hope he'd needed at the time: If Alecto's worst was kicking Ginevra Weasley in the face, then there was no way the Dark Side was going to win.

His mind wandered to how/why Daphne had been chosen for her job that evening. He then wondered if she was any good in a duel if it came down to it (what with the Slytherins' knack for causing drama, and all). His thoughts eventually betrayed him, deciding, ultimately, that Daphne wasn't hard on the eyes by any means- her attitude and associations made her foul- and his luck could have been much worse. He could have been stuck with Crabbe and Goyle!

As they passed Hagrid's hut, which lay some meters from the barns, Neville said aloud and mostly to himself, "This is going to take forever." He really wasn't trying to start up a conversation with the witch; he just spoke out loud to himself sometimes, and the sun's setting only reminded him he had a long night ahead, after having a pretty long and shitey one the night before.

"It will once you give me your wand," Daphne replied cattily over her shoulder.

Not everyone had noticed- Daphne apparently had- that Alecto was so focused on Ginny that the elder witch had only confiscated the younger's wand, and Neville had been led away with his still in his pocket, which hadn't much helped him until his skyward hands had been unchained from the wall that morning to attend classes. But Slytherins knew what a ringleader looked like, and Ginny had had it written all over her pissed off face. This time she had been the fearless leader, and Neville and friend and coconspirator.

Neville stopped, frowned, and asked the Slytherin with some suspicion, "You're going to take my wand?" He knew that was the usual practice when it came to detention, but he hesitated because he knew she wouldn't understand his sentiment for the wand. She'd been raised by her parents; bought a brand new wand at eleven. His wand was precious in a way she couldn't understand… He'd already lost his father's wand, and he'd been given his mother's in its place, and couldn't sentimentally afford to lose it along with the first.

Daphne stopped, turned with a frown and answered, "Yes. If not, I'll be informing the Carrows of your decision to be uncooperative. _After_ I take it from you. You're in no position to be playing games, Longbottom."

He sized her up, watched her hand twitch in the direction of her robe pocket, and then sighed as he reached into his trouser pocket to retrieve Alice's wand to hold it out to her. She snatched it from him without a second thought, a brow raised in surprise, and he said with a small smile, "I'm not going to hurt you, Greengrass."

With her somehow beautiful scowl she retorted, "I don't want to be here all night. I have your wand, now get bloody moving!" Her voice was stern, brimming with annoyance, as she pointed his wand towards the liveries. She was set in her intention, so Neville smiled down at her lightly before he shrugged and started to move, going well around her as he continued on.

She followed him all of the way until the two reached the first barn and found a piece of parchment tacked to the door, listing out duties in Hagrid's chicken-scratch, with a hardly legible P.S. that told the Gryffindor to be out by midnight, and that the Groundskeeper himself would finish whatever he hadn't been able to accomplish.

Daphne had read the note as she peeked around Neville's arm, and in regards to the P.S. she said in an annoyed tone, "I was told that you were to do it _all_. You'll stay as long as you have to. I'm a night owl, and I don't have classes until eleven, so you'd better get started because you're in for a long night."

Neville looked down at her over his shoulder, and answered with a shrug, "I have no problem with that. I don't have class until ten. And since we're here already I might as well tell you that I like Care of Magical Creatures, and have already been doing all of this as an excuse to get away from you Slytherins and the Carrows."

He only told her this because he knew she'd look annoyed by his confession. It worked, and his words were the truth. Helping Sprout in the greenhouses, and helping Hagrid with the animals, had been a way for him to get out of the misery of the castle he'd once loved being within. He now found solace spending time outside with creatures that did things simply because they didn't know better due to their place in the species stratification; not because the parents that the gods had seen fit to the bless them with decided not to teach them any better.

Neville liked to think in times where the Carrows were nasty, and the Slytherins were vile, that his parents would have taught him better than to treat people the way the Death Eaters did. From what he'd heard/knew about them, they were kind, loving people who cared for those around them, and Neville tried very hard to be the same way every day. But, every now and again, his sense of humor liked to peek through, and he smiled brightly at the look of anger that settled on the Slytherin's face at his admission. He couldn't help but take glee in her reaction.

"Well aren't you lucky?" she sneered.

Neville shrugged, and folded the note to slide it into his jeans pocket, and said, "I've been told I am before."

Her face softened into a frown and she said, "Touché."

Neville knew that the entire school was aware of his shite luck, but they were also aware that he'd been lucky not to die during more than half of the unfortunate events he'd found himself in. Hell, he'd been found in one of those sticky situations not twenty hours prior, and he'd made it out of there in not only one piece, and of a sane mind, but with his bloody _wand_ in his pocket!

He turned from the girl beside him and pushed one of the large double doors open to allow them entrance. He held it open for her and let her pass before closing and locking it. He did so because he'd had a few incidents of animals escaping while under his care before, and he did not intend to see a repeat of any of that. The first time he'd left the door open, a flock of Jobberknolls escaped into the Forbidden Forest. They were little blue birds that made no noise, and had been good at hiding in the shadows of the trees. Eight had escaped out the door long before Neville had realized they'd done so, and it had taken him and Hagrid six hours to catch them and return them to their habitat.

Daphne didn't seem to notice he locked the door, though, because she'd already made off towards the Puffskein corral, saying mostly to herself, "It's been _years_ since I've been in here. At least four."

Neville watched her go, and tried to recall the first task on the list Hagrid left. Once he decided he couldn't remember, he pulled the note from his pocket and began to review it as best he could with Hagrid's hardly legible, misspelt words. It basically read:

Neville,

Feed the fish, the Clabberts, Allen (the Moke), Jacob (the Jarvey), Ken (the Augrey), and Benicio and Maria (the Fwoopers). I fed the other birds and all the other animals this morning, but check on them anyway. Don't let whoever is guarding you touch the Doxies or Nancy (the Niffler). The Carrows made me leave the Thestral stalls for you. Stop by the hut on the way back if it's not too late.

-Hagrid

P.S. (Etc)…

He looked out the east-facing window towards the second, larger barn that held the Thestrals. Unlike the other animals, they were not kept in magical habitats in the first barn. They were stored in their stalls for the use of the carriages, and away from the other animals because they scared them, only to be spooked by the other animals', usually outspoken, aversion to their dark presence. It was only out of his bad luck that Neville was able to see them, and, therefore care for them. Not that he didn't like the tender creatures, which seemed to like him well enough, it was just, well… you know.

"Are you just going to stand there all night?" Daphne asked him. He brought his attention back to barn one, and then turned it to her. She held a Puffskein to her breast, and was petting it lightly on the head as she looked at him with a raised brow. "Or are you going to get started?"

"Yeah…" He cleared his mind by giving his head a small shake, and then he said, "I'm going to check the forest habitat first. Hagrid said he fed them all this morning, but the Augrey, Fwoopers, Clabberts and the Jarvey need two feedings a day."

"So?" she asked quickly, blinking at him rapidly, "Get on with it."

Neville nodded, put the note back in his pocket for later reference, then moved around the room so as to avoid having to be near her. Snakes tend to bite. He walked toward the doorway that would lead him to the forest habitat charmed into the barn he entered the portal easily, and headed for the locked storage case by the door which held the food; well warded against the animals.

He listened to the portal's audible swaying sound as Daphne followed him. He wasn't aware she'd follow him around, but she was there to be sure he stayed on task, so he paid her no mind and stayed silent. Not that he could think of anything to say that would possibly come out right, or wouldn't sound like he was trying to keep her out, or even try and sound like he was attempting friendly conversation. He always fell short with things to say around the opposite sex when he didn't know them. He knew nothing about Daphne Greengrass except that she was a Death Eater's daughter; always walking around with Parkinson like they owned the hallways. She'd never spoken to him, and he never to her, and he figured it was bound to stay that way.

It was definitely _better_ that way on all fronts.

Neville got to work, feeding the animals he'd been told to that lived within the open space of the forest habitat. He fed Benicio and Maria, the green and purple Fwoopers that accepted their meal graciously. Ken, the fat grey Augrey, sulked through the delivering of his own dinner, and Jacob the Jarvey had told Neville, "'Bout bloody time, ya' daft fuck. Need a clock. Arse! Can't feed me on time," when the Gryff had given him his voles. That was usual for the Jarvey. He had the foulest mouth Neville had ever heard, and his best mate as of late was Ginny; the Queen of Mean; the Duchess of "Fuck this!"

Neville said, "Goodnight to you, too, then," to Jacob as the large rodent waddled back into his burrow, and the Gryffindor turned around intent on feeding the family of four Clabberts.

As he did so, turn around, that is, it was only to watch as Daphne fed them for him. She sat at the bottom of a tree on small boulder, below the Clabbert nest, levitating a large stupefied pile of beetles from the cupboard and towards the two adolescents- Jane and Wendy. Neville noticed right away that the boil on Andrew the father Clabbert's head did not glow red as the Slytherin witch settled by his young; the boil's red coloring would have been an obvious sign of discontentment by a nearby threat. They paid no mind to the Puffskein the witch still cradled. Puffskeins are basically fuzzy vegetables.

Neville had to raise a brow at his guard, because the Clabberts did not usually take to newcomers. They hid in the trees, or chanced a dip in the lagoon with the Dugbog to get away. But they all sat rather close to her as she talked to the babies in a low voice; the family looking at her in curiosity as they ate instead of running, shrieking, or- as was often the case- attacking.

The first time Andrew had seen Neville had been in the first week of the animal's arrival at Hogwarts; Neville's third year. The clumsy then 14-year-old Gryffindor had tripped on a root sticking mere centimeters out of the ground, and fell onto his face with a loud yell, forcing Andrew to spring from his new nest with a shrill cry before attaching himself to the back of the head in an all-out attack. Now they were on "speaking" terms, since Neville had become somewhat less clumsy, and more attentive. He was shocked that Andrew was on speaking terms with Daphne, whom Neville knew the Clabbert had never seen before. The old man's ease in her presence made Neville question his assumptions of her character, for one had to be gentle to be allowed anywhere near Andrew and his family.

"Daph- uh… Greengrass," he called to her, drawing her attention at the sound of her first name. "I'm going to check on the Moke."

Her brows drew up, and she asked, "How did _Hagrid_ acquire a license for a _Moke_?"

Neville paused before answering, because he had almost asked her what she meant by her inflections, but then decided it was better just to say, "Snape applied for it. At the same time he applied for the Fwoopers' papers." Neville nodded towards the purple and green birds. "I heard a rumor they tried to get a Fire Crab, but they're too rare a species for schools."

"Moke-skin is rare, too," she said, standing and walking towards him. He knew this fact, but said nothing. "When I marry, I will inherit my great-great-great grandmum's Moke-skin purse. It's traditional that it is passed on to the first daughter or grand-daughter, so that we can keep our money hidden from our husbands."

"Ah…" was all he could say to her statement. He looked down at her, pursed his lips, and nodded.

"What?" she asked, lowering her lids at him as she noted his judgmental look. He hadn't meant to look so, it was just… he was _totally_ judging her.

He shook his head, and said, "Nothing. I- I uh…" He looked down at her dark, expectant eyes, and noted her lips slide to one side of her face.

"Spit it out, then. I forgot that you have speech impairments," she said snootily. At this comment, he remembered that he had made a point not to talk to her, and had instead fallen into a Slytherin trap: the all too infamous verbal row.

But still, he could not keep himself from answering her, from letting his Gryffindor shine through as he told her what he thought. "I keep forgetting that there are small-minded elitists out there that still sell their daughters to the highest bidder; none of which care about the _all-inclusive_ unity that is marriage." Her frown deepened into a glare, and he went on, no longer caring that he was talking to a female stranger. "But what can you expect from a group like that, anyhow?"

The Slytherin witch was quiet for many beats before opening her mouth to, Neville assumed, snap at him, but for some reason or another she decided not to respond, closing her mouth into a frown and instead turned to walk out of the habitat without looking back.

As Neville watched her leave he had to shake his head lightly at the hate he felt for Voldemort and his followers. He knew they had their own ways- their own agendas/lives/traditions/cultures- and he knew that not all of them were as heartless as they seemed, but it became exceedingly difficult with every day spent in the castle with Snape and the Carows manning the ship. To hear such things from the mouth of a babe of the new world order sickened him. Daphne's way of thinking would soon be all of their way of thinking if Harry didn't make it back. Luna had claimed his return was imminent, but it wasn't coming fast enough for Neville. For anyone. He was sure even Voldemort had to be restless by now!

As was mentioned, he was a gentleman. He'd never burned his bra or anything, but he didn't like watching witches being sold off like cattle. His grandmum had raised him right, with respect for women. Hearing a beautiful witch such as Daphne talk about her own "slavery" only reminded him of the two different sides of the fence that they sat upon, and how it really was for the best that they didn't speak to each other. The conversations they could potentially have all ended in peril in Neville's mind.

He made a point not to start any conversations for the rest of the night.

 **(*)**

"You're pretty good at that," Daphne said seriously, having looked up from her issue of "Witch Weekly" for the first time in a while.

The conversation that had arisen around her great-great-great grandmum's Moke-skin heirloom hadn't settled well with her. Who knew that the soft-spoken Neville could be so rude? She shouldn't have been surprised by his bluntness, because not only had she walked into it with her haughty superiority complex, but neither had any reason to be civil to each other.

This was war. You used what ammo you could get your hands on… including your mouth.

However you want to take that is fine by me.

How he'd known that, inadvertently, calling her a heartless bitch would be effective she did not know. But it had affected her deeply because she _did_ know how important marriage was, which was why she hadn't signed her name immediately. Granted, she had never expected to love her husband- it wasn't completely uncommon to fall in love after a betrothal, in her parents' case it had not happened- but that did not make her heartless.

That did not make her a bad person.

That did not make her family bad people for wanting such a thing.

But she could see where Neville was coming from, at least… She'd been born a daughter of pureblood Death Eaters, a group of people who had tortured and nearly killed the man in question's parents long before she left nappies, and they both knew this. She hadn't chosen her life, even though she _could_ , technically, do something about it. The ends of those means, though, would lead to social shunning, deprivation of the simplest- and grandest- means, her grandmum's purse included! It would mean the complete lack of security that she did not have the desire to embrace for something like love; that which was identically destructive as hate.

Did that _still_ make her a bad person?

That didn't make her a bad person… Right?

There had been quite a few different things to go through the Slytherin's mind as she tried to stay focused on her _Witch Weekly_. How she viewed Neville was on the top of the list. She knew that the man and his associates were threats to the future she wanted to ensure; a future which saw fit to make her royalty of sorts. Yes, the Longbottoms were members of the Sacred 28, and Neville in his own way was a perfect candidate to be a prince in that future she oh so desired, but he was a blood traitor, his family members were blood traitors, and if things were going to continue as they were at present, then that one fact was enough for her to know that Neville was a detriment to her plans for the future.

Did that make him "bad" to her; did it make her "bad"? Was he "good" in the spectrum of things..?

This portion of her introspection brought an entirely different subject that her mind forced her to dissect, the girl still sitting on her stool, staring off into a space somewhere near the stall Neville worked in, about the ruler of this "bright future" she planned to inhabit. She wasn't delusional, she was a Slytherin. In their world you either stood back and watched, remaining unscathed, or stood up and were punished, like she and Neville had been forced to endure the night before with Ginny. The Dark Lord undoubtedly found joy in finding out about Ginny's punishment, and would definitely find joy in Daphne's if she too spoke up or acted out against Voldemort and his cronies; aka her family members and their closest friends.

Did it matter that, no matter what made one's moral compass point due north, no matter what was "good" or "bad", Daphne Greengrass was too terrified to say anything contrary to what she was expected to believe. If she did not think that she was better, did not see herself as more deserving, did not convince others that she did in fact feel this way, then she would be Ginny Weasley; broken jaw, no wand, and a nightmare ahead of her that night. Daphne did not want to think of how she'd feel being in Ginny's shoes, being escorted into the Forbidden Forest while Greyback and his pack undoubtedly awaited her. Awaited her, Draco, and Pansy.

Daphne held back a shiver at the thought of her best friend being in the presence of a horde of monsters. She had Draco, though, and he'd become a bit less of a bitch… Kind of. He had brief moments of what one would call, in a word that Daphne would never whisper in the same breath with Draco's name, courage. He hadn't thrown himself off the Tower like Theo had cold-heartedly suggested Draco might do after his father's imprisonment, and he hadn't run away with his mum as Daphne assumed he would. He'd stayed, and he'd maintained all of their respect by still being the only one to have taken the black tattoo. The rest of them had not stepped up to do the same for the same reason Draco had done so to begin with: Fear.

They feared what would happen to their families, their mothers and father and brothers and sisters, so much so that revolting was not even an option. Draco's submission had been all of the proof she and her housemates had needed to know - insurgency was not the answer.

With this last thought, she shook her head of the madness, clearing her mind of the confusing subjects the night had unexpectedly brought to the surface, and looked about for a subject that would better occupy her mind.

After watching Neville finish tending the smaller habitats and aquariums in the smaller bar, and after putting the Puffskein back with the others, she had followed Neville to the second barn where he began to clean the Thestral stalls. They were empty, for Thestrals were nocturnal beasts, the family of horses invisible to Daphne were already out grazing in the Forest, which led Neville pick up a shovel to begin shoveling shite from the first stall. He was already making rapid headway, practically done with the first one after only fifteen minutes, and she had _had_ to say something about his proficiency is shite-slinging. She couldn't help it! She'd been hanging out with Pansy for too long not to give into the other witch's bad habit every now again. And, she could use a good verbal row. It kept her mind preoccupied with superficial delusion, instead of reality.

"Did you plan on playing with animal dung all of your life?" The Slytherin inquired with a snarky smirk. Not only had she noticed his abilities once she'd stopped to watch him, but in doing so she'd been unable to ignore his physique.

Everyone and their mum knew that Neville didn't play Quidditch, and Tracey had not only noticed but mentioned that the Gryffindor was built somehow anyway… But Daphne hadn't been able to agree with her until she watched him grip the shovel tightly in his hands, and the muscles of his arms bulge as he moved from point a to point b; point b being the mountain of manure that sat in a room with no candles, whose door was just an open floor to ceiling hole about two meters wide… which she'd sat as far away from as possible on a stool she'd conjured.

"No, but I suspect you've been planning to be a housewife all of yours," was Neville's dispassionate reply before bringing his shovel back down into the pile of dung.

Daphne frowned deeply, because the way he said it made it sound as if that were a bad thing. Granted, she'd only have one child- if she had her way- and she'd have House Elves to care for it instead of her… which didn't sound too good once she thought about, but how would he know that? Besides, that was the way she was raised. Her parents were never around, and when they were it was to comment on her exam scores, or to sit in as she performed her latest composition on her harp; both of these usually occurring when she'd disappointed them, and her father felt she needed a refresher on a certain spell, or her mother said her notes fell flat.

His statement reminded her of these incidences; of times when her ideas or words were unacceptable. Of the times she disappointed. She didn't like that the Gryff was getting under her skin- making her look at herself in a way she did not enjoy; making her feel less than because of her ambitions- so she muttered, "Bugger yourself." just loud enough for him to hear her before turning back to her magazine. Viktor Krum posing in nothing but dark grey boxer-briefs was _far_ more interesting than focusing on real life.

"I hit a nerve," Neville tossed back dryly as he tossed a shovelful of shite into the awaiting room, then turned back to return to the stall without even giving her a sideways glance.

Daphne scowled, said, "At least I have a secure future, Longbottom. You and your lot? Who _knows_ what's in store for you."

This made Neville stop his shoveling, putting the tip into the earth so as to lean his elbow on the blunted end to face her fully before saying calmly, "Yeah. My future is looking pretty bad… but at least _my_ future entails the freedom of choice. I'm sure your mother has had you betrothed from the time you were born, and that sounds a lot like slavery to me… which, if you think about, won't be too far away from what my future holds."

"For your information" -Daphne began as she stood from her stool to glare deeply at him, not liking that his arms were still drawing her eyes every now and again- "I am not betrothed. Not yet. If you must know I received a contract this morning, so don't act like you know anything about me or mine. At least my "slavery" will entail the freedom to come and go as I please."

He cocked his head at her, and asked with genuine curiosity, "Who from?"

"Wh- what?" Daphne's facial features softened slightly at his question, because that had not been what she had been expecting. She'd half expected for him to throw another insult, or laugh at her, but curiosity? That was the difference between Gryffindor and Slytherin; one stayed on the task at hand, while the other struggled with doing anything. At least from a Slytherin's point of view.

Stuttering at first from shock, Daphne eventually answered with some timidity, "Terrance Higgs."

Neville nodded his head with an agreeable expression, and said, "I remember him. He's actually alright for a Slytherin." Daphne glared deeply at this. "He _seemed_ alright, anyway…"

"Yes…" Daphne was both annoyed and shocked, caught off guard by Neville "giving his blessing". It seemed too… friendly. She wasn't there to be friendly. Still, she answered, "He- he is quite- uh… honorable. I will most likely say yes."

"Well," Neville said with a shrug, "Good luck to you and your happily ever after, _Mrs. Higgs_."

Daphne watched as the Gryffindor before her turned back to his work, wherein she was left in the silence of her own, Merlin forbid, guilt. She felt a small pang of guilt… for Neville Longbottom.

And, just like that, a mostly naked Viktor wasn't catching her eye like Neville.

She hadn't looked at him in at least thirty minutes before their conversation, because the one before it had left her so sore at him, but after this last one she couldn't help but glance at him _at least_ every thirty seconds. In doing so, she – semi-regrettably - noticed more and more appealing parts of his body. The muscles that moved beneath his t-shirt. The furrow in his brow over hazel-blue eyes as he concentrated. The tightness of his backside as he leaned over, only accentuated by his jeans. The assuredness of his step as he moved too and fro.

Way more than once she caught herself openly gawking at him, and was glad every time that Neville had remained concentrated on his task. She didn't need to be caught staring at him, because that would be flat out embarrassing. Not to mention unorthodox. It was already bad enough Tracey had let it be known to her fellow Slytherin witches that she thought the Gryffindor was good looking. The last thing any of them needed was for Daphne to be called out for staring at him. Slytherins and Gryffindors didn't mesh, even if it was said that they were cut from the same cloth. Hell, that was more than likely the problem; too many similarities- passions, drives, dreams- with one big difference: point of view.

"When I do this any other day," Neville began to speak again, out of nowhere, some twenty minutes after his calling her Mrs. Higgs. He kept working as he went on, "I have my wand of course. But the wood looks better if you use the shovel to clean along the walls before moving it magically... So I've had a bit of experience with this shovel before tonight."

Daphne caught herself looking at various parts of his body, instead of his face when he spoke, so she looked back down at her magazine when she replied curtly, "As you've already stated." She was trying to seem uninterested- she tried to tell herself she wasn't looking at him and she wasn't interested him in any way, but she knew she was lying.

"Well _you_ were the one who said that I- ooph! … Ugh!"

Daphne looked back up from her article about shoes to see that Neville had tripped over something, only to land, belly down, on the small pile of manure he'd been working on. The Slytherin witch couldn't help but burst into loud giggles, which quickly turned into a guttural laughter that made her throw her head back and slap her knee repeatedly. It wasn't a ladylike reaction, but she'd been wondering how long it would take the clumsy Gryffindor to do something worthy of ridicule. It had been a dreary year, and she'd needed a good laugh, the witch half expecting him to have thrown the shovel over his shoulder by now, or even had dropped one of Jacob the Jarvey's dead voles and trip over it. But he'd been as graceful as Neville Longbottom could be until this point, and the witch had far too many other things on her mind to be waiting for such an event the entire evening.

 _Now_ , because of her surprise, she couldn't help but clutch her aching sides as she watched Neville stand, the wizard avoiding touching the manure as much as possible, and then frown sadly as he looked down to his ruined- at least temporarily- white t-shirt and blue jeans. He looked up to her and asked, "Can I get my wand back for a minute?"

Daphne shook her head, took in a deep, calming breath, and continued to laugh anyway as she said, "No way." She kept laughing still.

"Then will you clean me up?" he asked, even though his tone hinted with the sound of uncertainty. It really was a long shot for him to ask her for help of any kind.

"No, no," she said, waving her hand at him as her laughter began to die. "I don't think I will. It's rather suiting for the punishment, in my opinion."

He turned from her with a defeated sigh before reaching to take his shirt off, and suddenly Daphne Greengrass no longer cared about either of their places in society; light, dark, grey, green, red, or otherwise.

Her lips drew tightly together before she pulled them between her teeth. Her eyes went wide and her breath began coming out in audible, short pants through her nose, and then she began to look around for one of her girls, because, usually, she had Pansy or Tracey around to confirm that they were seeing what she was seeing. But she was alone, and was left to turn back from her imaginary friends to look at Neville; her mouth deciding to hang open as he turned his muscled back to her. She'd never seen him without his shirt before, and for a moment she kind of hoped she'd get so lucky as to witness him remove his pants, as well.

The witch, right then and there, as she watched the Gryffindor throw his shirt atop the door of the stall, decided that she was going to have to have a long chat with her friend Tracey about the witch needing to practice her communication skills. If Daphne's housemate would have been a tad more forthright in her observations, the brunette witch who sat drooling onto her 'zine would have taken time to "mentally prepare" for her night alone with Neville Longbottom. She could have dreamed up all kinds of mischief in the four hours before she'd left. Now they were almost halfway through his detention, and instead of being her usually enchanting self when it came to engaging with shaggable boys, she'd made a point to be a bitch.

"Hmmm…" she hummed. She'd done so for multiple reasons, one being that she didn't even consider pulling her eyes away from Neville as he continued to frown and do his job shirtless, and she couldn't help but make a sound of approval. The other reason, as some _may_ know, is that "hmmm" is simply exhaust, usually expelled from one's mouth or throat, that has been carried there by neurotransmitters as one's brain begins to formulate a plan.

And, since the Slytherin witch had years of practice studying the art of manipulation, it only took her a few seconds to decide on a course of action.

She looked about the barn for half a minute to assess her surroundings before standing. She set her magazine down on her stool, grabbed her wand from her robe pocket before removing the garment and folding it, and then set it atop the WW. She then watched as Neville walked towards the manure room with the shovel, dump it, and when he turned back she quickly, casually closed the gap between them, stopping him in her advance, saying, "Longbottom."

"What?" He answered, eyeing her with one slightly lifted brow, drawing himself to his full height before stiffening uneasily; one hand gripping the shovel.

The Slytherin had already noticed the way the Gryffindor became uneasy whenever she was close to him, and she gave him a charming smile before taking a few steps to grab his shirt hanging on the stall door. She walked back to him- shirt in one hand, wand in the other- and she cleaned the fabric easily before tucking her wand into the hem of her skirt. She then made sure to stand as close to him as possible as she adjusted the shirt in her hands just so, and then went to her tip toes to lift it over his head and pull it down until it rested around his neck.

Neville hadn't taken his eyes from her face the entire time, and out of what she knew to be shock he allowed her to help him into his shirt without any fuss; the wizard holding the handle of the shovel in one hand as she set a hand just above the 'v' of his left hip- holding the hot, tight skin without shame- and used her other hand to pull the shirt away from so that he could put his right arm through the hole; then repeated the action for the other side. She was even sure to hold onto his right hip after he switched the shovel from his left hand to his right… and still, he didn't step away from her.

When the shirt was settled over his torso- something she regretted, but knew she would only miss it for a little while- the bottom hem of the cloth rubbed the back of her arm, for she refused to let go of him just yet. To make the point she meant to, she grabbed her wand from her skirt and rubbed the tip along the bulge in the front of his jeans, pulling a quick gasp from his lips, and performed the same cleaning spell she'd used on his shirt.

With a small smile at the heat that now filled his eyes, and a mocking bounce in her step, she turned from him to return to her stool without another word, intent on continuing her article on dragon-hide Mary Janes, and allowing him a moment to process what had happened.

She gave another small smile as she counted the seventy-eight seconds it had taken for him to regain himself and get back to work.

 **Roots**

You wanna know why I like the pain, you say?

There's some sick part of me thankful for the hate, I…

I stay positive and I… I push forward, ya see?

I… I gotta do the right thing for my family

 **(*)**

 **A/N:** This got so long I had to cut it in two, which I'm not all that bummed about. If there's more to be explained, there's more to be explained. There is a second part to this to come soon.


End file.
